Resigning
by The cursed child
Summary: He wrote the letters on his first day. He doesn't give them when he leaves, they don't need to know his secrets and fears. This time he does. Maybe because he's been there so long, maybe because he doesn't know if he can let them go. They deserve it, or at least they used to. But two weeks later Ziva is in danger, Abby is in the hospital and he has no idea what to do anymore.
1. Leaving letters

The letters had been there since his first day on the job. He'd had no intention of ever turning them in, not to Gibbs, not to Morrow. They were in the hidden compartment of his third drawer, beneath the awards and medals that he'd collected for Gibbs. His own were stacked neatly on the right side, taking up just over half the drawer.

Peoria had been his first PD. It had been fun there, but he'd been an outcast. He was a young detective, placed with overweight men who were convinced of their superior abilities. Because his father was a rich businessman they'd assumed right away that he was a lazy, arrogant and spoiled little boy with delusions of grandeur.

After a few months it became tolerable, but his first letter had been written the day he stepped into the precinct. It was simple, detached, impersonal. As he grew to like the men he worked with, he added to the letters. He wrote one to each of his team members. He added his opinions about cases, the reason he had trouble trusting them. The letters grew longer with every case.

The week he handed one in was not the day he'd done something stupid. There hadn't been a case that came to close. There was no personal attachment to a victim. No cop had died. It had simply been time. At the time, he wasn't able to explain why he had decided to move on. He just wasn't home.

He had deserved a ton of respect, been awarded medals and commendations had piled up, but there was no trust. He didn't feel like he was home. He wrote a new letter, keeping the others under lock and key. It looked just like the one he'd written on his first day.

Philadelphia PD had been different. They heard of his reputation long before he arrived. He was unorthodox, amusing, and a good detective. They respected him from the beginning. He worked his connections skillfully. He made sure his bosses knew he was good, but stayed out of their way. His results were always more impressive when his superiors didn't know how he got them.

Still, he wrote the letters on his first day there, finishing it just before midnight arrived. The team he worked with was mostly known to him. He'd consulted with the lead on a serial killer before and attended a profiler seminar with the only female on the team.

But when you have everything to loose, you do in this world. 3 Weeks on the job his partner was killed in a robbery, completely unrelated to the job. It was hard, but he stayed. He liked the team, he trusted the team, and that was a two-way street this time.

His reputation grew. Respect was a given when they heard the name DiNozzo. He was offered his own team three years into his career. He turned it down. More awards joined his resume.

He remained where he was supposed to be, working on the team that had accepted him. The team however, started obeying his gentle orders above his boss' frequent screams. The team dynamic went down the drain. He stayed, not wanting to give up.

He gave no orders, took foolish risks, and still he didn't leave. The moment he left had been after a week of cold cases. He just closed the last file on his desk and grabbed a letter from the pile. It was an exact copy of the letter he'd given to the director at Peoria.

He left Philadelphia the same night, checked into a hotel in Baltimore after three hours of driving and called his former boss.

Feeling betrayed, the man hung up, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts. When a team doesn't work the way it supposed to, it endangered everyone on the job. Leaving had been the right thing to do.

His five boxes with possessions stood in the corner of the room. Anthony DiNozzo wondered where his gut would lead him.

Baltimore PD was a coincidence above all else. He'd found the body, a woman, beaten and left in a ditch on his way to dinner. The locals had been short on manpower and invited him as a consultant, eventually offering him a job.

He started on the letters right away, disgusted by the praise they bestowed on him. They knew of his reputation, but his methods soon turned them around.

The way he worked was not appreciated, not by the team or his boss' boss. One mistake cost him his good reputation, made his colleagues forget the awards in his locket drawer. There was absolutely no respect or trust. Working there was dangerous, but Tony couldn't bring himself to leave. Something about Baltimore pleased him.

His letters never grew longer than a single page there. Nothing was left to say to those who expected too much, but let him fall when he revealed his imperfections.

Gibbs arriving was no blessing in disguise, it was a nightmare. The man's reputation was well-known among a few select people. The fact that Gibbs was undercover and a suspect made it just that much more fun. He needed to prove to himself that he could make Gibbs confess to him about his special agent status.

Tony gave all he had to give.

Not to impress Gibbs, certainly not to prove his worth. He wanted to prove that everyone could make mistakes. He waited for Gibbs to do just that. Tony didn't back up, wasn't intimidated. Gibbs was soft, anyone could see that. He was not dangerous as long as you kept away from his personal life and his loved ones.

Gibbs offering him a job was expected. He had seen the way the man observed his skills, his way of handling his boss and team members. Gibbs was looking for a team, and he'd considered Tony from the moment he saw him.

He turned the marine down. Not because he had a deadwish, but because he refused to give up on something that kept him tethered to Baltimore. He had unfinished cases there, things to do before he left. Exposing his best friend and partner as dirty. He never left when there were loose ends to be tied up.

That feeling ebbed away. When his last case closed, he turned in his resignation. Not one of the long ones with insults, sarcastic comments and personal observations, but his standard letter.

He had enough money to live comfortable for a few months, so he drove to Boston.

What he did not expect was to find Gibbs on his Hotel doorstep a week later. "You're on my team now."

He knew then and there that he would be staying for a while, but he still wrote his letter before he left the MCRT bullpen.

He was right.

Just over seven years. Thrice as long as his previous jobs.

Time to hand in the letters.

There was no reason, no trigger.

Checking to make sure everybody had already left, he opened the drawer and lifted the awards. He gathered all his stuff into a box and stared at his surroundings. His gut told him to leave before everything went wrong. The team was broken, he couldn't fix it. There were over two dozen letters in his hand. Those that he'd never given to his previous teams went into the box. They were reminders. His insurance that he never stayed to long, never put others in danger when it could be avoided.

Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Vance, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, Jenny, Morrow, Kate.

The latter three joined the others in the box. He brought Vance's letter upstairs and put it on his secretary's desk.

The first three were displayed carefully on the recipient's desk. With one last look, he stepped into the elevator. The lower floors of the building were quiet as well. Abby's letter was underneath her Caf-Pow by the time he walked out, leaving a sleeping Abby undisturbed. Ducky's and Palmer's were placed on the primary autopsy table in plain sight.

He threw his phone into the trash and drove to his apartment. Putting his belongings in moving boxes took three hours and a frat buddy of his helped him move it to storage.

He sold his car and bought another at a different car dealer under a false name. He bought a burnphone under the same name. untraceable by both Abby and Gibbs, he drove for miles and miles.

**A/N I'm not sure if I'm actually continuing this, but this was inspired by maleshka's Two week notice, and I could help but write it.**


	2. Abby's panic

Abby woke up slowly and opened an eye. The light was ridiculously bright, so she closed it again. Waking up was never easy. It was a painfull excercise to get her muscles to work. She was just so tired all the time. Long hours and little free time did that to a person. Except Gibbs, but than again, Gibbs doesn't sleep.

Knowing that it was time to get back to work she stood, keeping her eyes closed. Blindly, she stumbled toward the switch and turned the annoying light off. The red infront of her eyes turned to black.

She opened her eyes and looked at the digital clock on her computerscreen. 9 Am, just great.

Her mood brightened immediately when she saw the Caf-Pow on her desk. Caffeine was a godsend in the morning, no matter if it was the usual 6 or the 9 of today.

She knew without asking that it was Tony's. No matter how much she loved Gibbs, the man only brought her a precious Caf-Pow when she'd done something to deserve it. Tony just brought them whenever he thought she needed them. He always did seem to know what she needed.

The first taste of the beverage was delicicious. She was wide awake instantly. She drained the whole thing and threw it into the trash. Only when her fingers were already dancing across the keyboard did she notice the letter with Tony's handwriting.

She was sure that he'd left it last night. The team would be coming in at noon, having worked late into the night to close their case. And no idiot came in three hours before they should when there was no paperwork to catch up on. Cold cases could wait.

She grabbed the piece of paper and dropped herself into a chair. Even caffeine couldn't completely fight her exhaustion. She scanned over the slightly slanted words, wondering why Tony would give her a letter of all things.

The words jumbled in her mind. All of Tony's insecurities were written on that single piece of paper. Mistakes he had made, she had made. About everything that bothered him. About broken trust and broken teams.

_When Gibbs returned from Mexico, I was disappointed. Not because he was back, but because everything we'd all built together was pushed to the side. It was always Team Gibbs to all of you. It didn't matter how much I worked, you always trust him more than me. Blindly, loyally. No one ever thought to give it to me._

The late nights she'd spent at Tony's, crying and ranting, came to mind. It was true. The moment Gibbs returned she'd forgiven him for leaving. Gibbs had stepped back into his position, pushing Tony away from it, no questions asked. It had felt so right at the time, but she hadn't taken into account what his return meant to Tony. She assumed that he was just as happy to have the bossman back.

Tony had lead the team. He'd picked up the pieces and tried to put them back together. He cared for them all when Gibbs left. Made sure they kept working and helped them stay on their feed when Gibbs had pushed them away and left for another country. He did all that while working deep undercover.

They'd criticized him. Tried to turn him into Gibbs 2.0. They were wrong to do it, they were wrong to try. Tony was a good agent, she knew of his medals and awards. She knew about the position he'd been offered in Rota. She thought she'd known why he'd turned it down. But reading this, it hadn't been because he wanted to stay. He was betrayed and used by those who should've had his back.

At the time none of them had respected his leadership, no matter how effective he was. They wanted him to do things Gibbs'way. Needed to keep a resemblance of normalcy in the team.

While Tony worked 24/7 a week, the closure rate never dropped, it had even risen for a while. He had created a new identity outside of work for Jeanne, and at work they had tried to mend his being into a perfect replica of Gibbs. Tony wrote about how he'd lost himself in another world.

_Being Tony DiNardo may have been a lie, but I'd been appreciated and respected. DiNardo was **me,** only without the badge. It wasn't an act. Jeanne fell in love with **me** because of who I was, not who I pretended to be. _

He had liked a life without his gun. Wanted that life for himself. Jeanne was the perfect fit. Beautiful, talented with the same interests. And he only actually told her one lie; where he worked.

His personality had been split in two, and both parts had changed too much and soon no longer fit together. That was okay at the time, but when that sacrifice had gone unrecognized as soon as Gibbs returned he wanted to scream and shout. They'd critisized him for falling in love with a lie, but they'd been the ones to push him away. Harder and harder until he had trouble standing. He'd felt like a puppet and looked for comfort where there was none to find. Jeanne gave that to him. She listened and made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

The tone of his letter wasn't accusing. He forgave her for everything she'd done wrong by him, but the feeling of loneliness hadn't disappeared with time. That feeling of home was gone. He felt unwelcome.

He missed what he'd had a glimpse of having. He couldn't find that here, not when they were a vase put together without glue, ready to fall apart with one more push. Today there had been no reason left to stay.

She wanted to read it again, but the letters blurred as tears streamed down her face. She wanted to sit there and cry, but she had to find him. Had to find Tony before he disappeared.

Her fingers raced over the keys as she traced his cell and found that he was standing in the parking garage. She ran toward the door and took the stairs. She ran and ran until she arrived at his cell's location, he wasn't there.

She yelled and screamed for Tony, hoping to find him hiding behind a car. She ran through the garage, but there was no sign of him.

He was gone

She sobbed loudly and curled up against the wall, crying for Tony.

**A/N I wanted to get this out immediately. Thank you so much for the reviews and all the other stuff. I will be continuing this story for certain. Hope you enjoyed Abby's reaction, I always think they grew closer when Gibbs left, (not romantically though). Besides, they've known each other the longest. Oh, and I like Jeanne, probably because she made Tony happy. And I'm still convinced that her actions later were caused by Jenny (who I also like a lot, except for those few episodes…) And last, this will contain Ziva/Tony, that is one letter that I actually already know how to write.**


	3. Gibbs' Anger

**A/N As pointed out by my precious reviewers I have put this story back on in-progress. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. Every single reaction makes me smile. Though I've never known how much Ziva/Tony haters there are. It's a shame you've stopped reading. For those who are wondering, this is a couple of days after Reunion (7x02). Thank you again and enjoy!**

Gibbs arrived at the Navy Yard at ten. He had another two hours until he had to be there, but he needed to get the performance reviews of the team finished. Well, he needed to start them first. Paperwork wasn't exactly his favourite occupation.

Besides the fact that it was paperwork, it was also politics, and he hated the latter even more. His ability to judge his team would be questioned. Ziva's status would be scrutinized, simply because no sane agent would hire an assassin as dangerous and deathly as Ziva, who was also the daughter of Mossad's director and had just been held captive for months.

It was a hassle every time when he had to defend his agents. Morrow and Jenny had approved of them because they trusted his judgement, Leon didn't and would judge every word that he wrote. Especially because of everything they'd been through recently.

He moved between the cars when he heard nearly silent sobs. His hand rested on his gun as he slowly approached the sound, completely alert and expecting danger. He saw Abby, curled up against a pillar with red and unseeing eyes. Tears streamed down her face.

He crouched in front of her, checking for injuries and finding none. She didn't see him, looking right past him to a spot that held nothing of importance. Abby was trapped in her mind, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Gibbs grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. He looked for something, but he couldn't find it. Abby suddenly noticed him and sobbed loudly.

"He's gone. Tony's gone."

He frowned and looked at the girl. If Tony had been kidnapped, why hadn't she called, why was she sitting there doing nothing. Was Tony dead?

"Who took him?" he asked urgently. He needed to find DiNozzo before something happened to him, if it hadn't already.

Abby looked away and shook her head. Tears blurred her vision, but Gibbs' piercing blue eyes were too bright to ignore. They stared at her questioningly.

"He left, Gibbs. He quit."

The man stood up, pulling Abby with him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and waited until she looked at him. "When?" he asked angrily. That couldn't be true. Tony wouldn't just pack up and leave.

Abby looked down at her shoes. "Last night. He left me a letter. His phone is in the trashbin over there." Her hand pointed in the direction of said object.

Options shot through the team leader's head. Likely scenarios played out in front of his eyes. Each worried him more and more.

"Could someone have forced him to write it?"

Gibbs tried to keep calm with Abby. It wasn't her fault and he needed to keep his cool if he wanted to find his missing agent. He needed to get Abby calmer, rational. She didn't seem to be nearing either.

"Abby?" he urged her on. They had no time to lose. Tony could very well be in danger right now. He could be dead. No, DiNozzo wasn't dead, the concept was ridiculous.

"This wasn't just a letter, Gibbs. It was..," she stopped.

How do you explain how a friend wrote every thought and emotion of the past seven and a half years on a piece of paper and left? How do you tell Gibbs that there is nothing he could do? That the list of gentle accusations was just too long. She felt her eyes watering again.

"He wouldn't have written this if someone forced him." That was an ugly truth. Tony had left them voluntarily. He'd packed a box with his stuff and drove away.

Gibbs obviously wasn't happy with that answer and mulled over his options in his head. Blackmail was still an option, no matter how far-fetched.

"Come on."

Gibbs grabbed her gently by the wrist and took her to the bullpen. Abby was quietly sniffling, trying to dry her eyes as Gibbs restlessly stood on her right. The elevator ride took far too long in his opinion.

He ignored the other agents from the teams next to his and went straight to his desk. DiNozzo had placed his performance reviews of the team on Gibbs' desk, which was his responsibility as Senior field agent. They were the only reports Tony always managed to write perfectly and never had to redo. They were honest, insightful, and more often than not did Tony write down what went wrong rather than what went right.

On top of them was an envelope with his name on it. His gaze immediately fell on DiNozzo's corner. It was clean, empty. There was nothing there which wasn't owned by the agency. He had taken everything he owned with him.

Blinded by anger, he started his computer and looked at the forensics specialist who was longingly looking at Tony's space. "Find his car," he ordered and grabbed the phone.

Gibbs dialed the two remaining agents. The thing beeped twice before Ziva answered, and once with McGee "Come to the office, ASAP." Short, to the point. No time for chit-chat.

They didn't get any time to respond.

Ziva, who was in the middle of a yoga exercise grabbed her bag and was out the door within seconds. Tim took a little bit longer to gather his stuff, but he was dressed and ready to go.

The agents took ten minutes to get to the bullpen and found an irritated Gibbs behind his computer.

Ziva noticed the empty desk first. "Where is Tony?"

"DiNozzo quit, effective immediately." Gibbs seemed to be distracted, typing away on his keyboard. His eyes flying from left to right.

"What?" Tim exclaimed loudly.

"He resigned, McGee. Why does that come as a shock to you?" Ziva said.

All heads turned to Ziva. Gibbs stood and angrily approached. If she had known without stopping DiNozzo…

Ziva met his gaze evenly. She'd spent the last weeks being tortured and had been an assassin for over half of her life. Gibbs didn't scare her when he wasn't in control.

"You knew?" His voice was a mere whisper, but it was dangerous. They had by now captured the attention of the other agents, who looked on as the two attempted to stare each other down.

"I suspected, nothing more. He was very angry with me." He had been. He hadn't talked a lot. Everything he did say was accompanied by a sneer and a glare, and that was after he'd rescued her.

"He was mad at me too, because I abandoned him when I shouldn't have," Abby interrupted from her place by the wall. Jimmy Palmer and Ducky had come up with her, each an opened letter in hand with their name on it.

She handed Gibbs a sheet of paper. "Tony sold his car this morning, there is no record of him buying another one. He doesn't want to be found, Gibbs," she said sadly. How could she not see this coming?

Gibbs had left when he was angry, so when Tony had stayed and the heat of the moment had passed, she'd hoped that he had no intention of leaving. Ever. But Tony wasn't Gibbs, that was a lesson she had learned far too late.

She glanced at the boss' desk. The letter lay on the exact same spot it had earlier. She wondered what it said. What had Tony written for Gibbs when he had nothing left to lose?

"Have you opened your letter yet?" she asked quietly. She never liked it when Gibbs was angry.

"Anything that he wrote down can be said to my face when he gets his ass back here. Find him." Gibbs turned away and was on his way to the stairs when McGee spoke up.

"I'm going home." His letter was opened and Tim looked as if he would rather be anywhere but here. He knew that finding Tony in one day would be impossible, and Tony made it clear that he didn't want them to look. Tim just wanted to sit at home and read the letter over and over again. He wasn't sure if he'd read it correctly the first time.

Gibbs stood as McGee packed his back and left. "Anyone else leaving?" he glared at them. Were they really going to leave? Not even try to find Tony, who was both colleague and friend to all of them. Were they actually all okay with this?

Palmer left silently, so did Abby. They ignored his gaze as well as they were able and went to their work stations downstairs.

His gaze turned to Ziva, who was staring at the closed envelope in her hand. She put it in her leather jacket and grabbed the piece of paper addressed to Gibbs. She handed it to him. "You should."

Whether she meant that he should go home, should read the letter, or should leave as well wasn't clear. Maybe she meant all of them.

Ziva left her bag where she'd thrown it and walked toward the toilets. She wasn't going home. She was going to read that letter and find Tony first. She had to. He had found her in Somalia by tracking a shipment of Caf-Pow, she would find him with less. She couldn't live without him anymore than he could live without her.

Gibbs stood in the bullpen with Ducky, looking at his agent with Tony's goodbye in his hand. Of all the people he'd expected to leave it was she who stayed. Tim, who never questioned him had read what Tony wrote and left. Abby, who should be doing everything she could to get Tony home was sitting in her lab doing nothing. Palmer, whom he was pretty sure was Tony´s best friend, hadn´t spoken a word.

Ducky broke his train of thought; "We wronged him one time too many, Jethro. I'm afraid there is nothing we can do to get him back."

**A/N Who do you want to see next? McGee, Palmer or Ducky? And I swear, this thing writes itself!**


	4. Tim's determination

**A/N So, the votes have spoken, this chapter will be McGee. Thank you all for the votes and reviews. Thank you for reading. Have fun.**

Tim drove to his appartment with a driving style that was a mix of Ziva's speed and his own precision. The radio played a happy tune that annoyed him enough to reach forward to turn it off. The silence was much better for a while, but he would've preferred a set of sad lyrics to sing along with.

The bag with his letter on the passenger seat had an eary and demanding presence. The words wouldn't leave him alone. He must have read it wrong. Then again, in Somalia he'd heard Tony say it drugged with a truth serum _: I don't care about your team, and I don't care about my team. _

And he hadn't, because Tony had gone to Somalia to die. It was only when Saleem had captured them that McGee had figured that one out. The rescue team in place had been for Tim, an afterthought implanted by McGee himself.

Tony had given up, he couldn't live without her. His plan had been to kill Saleem, he hadn't thought about the future. Very Special Agent DiNozzo was a simple man in the end, blinded by loss. Obsessed by vengeance.

_You protected me from myself, trusted me completely while Ziva was gone. You followed me to the depts of hell to help me avenge a ghost, knowing that there was a larger chance that we would die than live. You trusted me more than I dared ask. Thank you._

It was ridiculous to even consider Tony leaving voluntarily. He had always been so loyal, always been there for them, never turned his back on them. He'd protected them as well as he could, saved them when he was able to. Stood by them, believed in them when noone else could.

The team simply wasn't complete without Tony. Tony kept them laughing, made every day just a little bit brighter. Made sure Ziva smiled when she was down, tried to coax a reaction out of Gibbs when the agent was trapped in a cage of haunting memories.

He had trained Tim for seven years, been there for every step of his career at NCIS. Taught him how to be a protector. Tony had trusted _**him**_ to be the Senior field agent when Gibbs left for Mexico. Tony had helped him adjust to the position on top of his new responsibilities. He'd never known how much Tony actually did, wondered when he found the time to do it. Didn't have an ounce of respect for it at the time. Wished he did.

The pranks were annoying, true, so was Tony. He had been humiliated, hindered, annoyed and angry. This year though, he had been retaliating, and the prank war had been fun, lightened up the usually depressed mood that hung around the bullpen.

For every time Tony glued his fingers to his keyboard, Tim hacked his colleague's computer and used Kate's photoshopped picture to block the screen for half an hour. For everytime Tony drew something on his face, Tim died the other's teeth a hideous color.

Tony had been teased just as mercilessly by everyone. It had been a great way to take the edge of during or after hard cases. The senior field agent started using Tim's name more often than Probie, they became friends.

That had meant a lot to him then, but reading Tony's words, it meant even more to Tony.

_Closing a letter like this one is quite hard. I wrote this the day you joined our team, and have added to it ever since. I didn't want to forget what had happened, didn't want to blur the days where we worked our asses of. Important things happen every day. We don't notice it at first. It is far later that we realise what words can mean. _

_The easiest thing would be to write down that you are the little brother I never had, but there is a time for clichés, and this is not it. _

_Family has never been that much of a good thing. I can't remember much of my mom, not her voice, her laugh, not if she ever really cared about me._

_You've met Senior. He has never been a great father, not to anyone. He's never gonna be. He's an alcoholic, a criminal and probably the most irresponsible man I know._

_Family are the people you are obligated to love, to cherish. They can wrong you time and time again without consequences, and you just have to let them. If they tell you to do something, you do it. They don't have to give you any respect, but it is expected that you give it to them without don't have to earn it._

_To me, friends are the family you choose. It's a simple as that. _

_To call you my little brother is an insult. It would mean that I feel obligated to protect you, that is not true._

_I choose to protect you. I chose to care, I chose to respect you, how far you've come since we met. And I am proud when I do so. You have earned it after having my back when it mattered most. You protected me when I needed it. Thank you._

_Your friend,_

_Tony_

Tony sounded so hurt, so angry, so _**lost**_. Tim had done a lot wrong, but Tony forgave him for everything.

_Forgiving you isn't the hard part. It was getting over the disappointment that none of you care as much as I do. _

_I wanted to stay so badly that I would do anything. And I did. I stayed years longer than I have anywhere else because there are people here that I call my friends. People who've taught me that family can be a good thing, gave me hope when I had none._

_But it's too much, been too long. I no longer want it bad enough to get over being hurt. Bad enough to push that feeling away. It's been one time too many._

_I have done everything I could to keep us all together, but I'm tired of repairing broken strings. Especially when I am the only one still trying. _

He sounded so tired. He was overworked, emotionally spent. He had worked many sleepless nights searching for Ziva, to get that missing piece back.

When he finally did, it was as if the puzzle pieces no longer fit together. The ease with which they'd worked together had been shattered by distrust, kidnappings, losses. Cases took longer because they couldn't communicate the way they used to. Things had changed during the last few months. Something was still missing, and now Tony was gone.

The center piece of their very own puzzle was gone, the thing that held them together. The man who held them together. Tony was the linchpin. When Gibbs left, he was the one who kept them together. He was the one that could make them fit. If Tony didn't get back soon, Tim didn't think there would be a team left to fix.

The door of his apartment was kicked closed behind him. He threw his gear into the corner and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a cup of coffee from there and wheeled his chair to his computer. He would be the first to find Tony and bring him back, quickly. He couldn't imagine living without them in his life.

**A/N What did you think of that? I think Tim has always been a hard character to write. He can be so insecure on the job, but he seems to be a confident bestselling author the other half of the time. I rewrote this chapter by the way. I was really disappointed with it and the story wouldn't work anymore, but I refuse to quit when you all seem to like it so much. It's just taking a little while longer. It's an extra two hundred words, but I think it sounds loads better. I'll try to update as soon as possible.**


	5. Palmer's secrets

**A/N Thank you all for the amazing reactions. Every reader is appreciated. Also, I was a little bit disappointed with myself about the last chapter, and I considered quitting, but I couldn't do it. I rewrote it and I feel loads better. Enjoy this one.**

Jimmy took the elevator day wasn't going to go well, not a chance. He was preparing himself mentally for the anger and the tantrums that he was sure were coming. When it was personal, there was no agent who could control him- or herself. A computer genius, a former assassin and a marine sniper, with the best forensic scientist in the state on the front-line was a deadly combination.

It was completely dark downstairs. The basement was cold and he wished for a second that he worked somewhere lit by sunshine instead of the artificial lights in autopsy. Maybe upstairs in the bullpen. Special agent James Palmer. Solving cases with team DiNozzo. Sure, team Gibbs was amazing, but Tony was the only one who would ever accept him as an agent. He knew that Tony would have his own team someday, and he would give anything to be Tony's team Probie.

Jimmy blindly reached for the switch and lit up the corridor. The automated doors opened and Autopsy' lights turned on. He noticed Tony's goodbye on the table when he took the equipment from the supply closet like he did every day.

He had expected it. He came to work today knowing that Tony left just hours earlier. It didn't make the next weeks look any brighter, having the knowledge that he wouldn't be speaking Tony anymore. Jimmy had told Tony that he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret if they were communicating. Tony hadn't seemed to care, but Palmer wanted to give him a chance to start over before Gibbs found him.

And he would. This team would do anything they could to get him back. Tony may not feel like he belonged with the team, but he was family to them. Team Gibbs were the best of the best, and they would find Tony. Jimmy gave it a month.

There was no letter in the envelope, but a small piece of paper with ten digits. A phone number. He had never seen it before in his life, but he knew without a doubt that it was Tony's. On its back was a single sentence: _For emergencies, or if you ever feel like talking, Autopsy Gremlin._

Jimmy had been there for Tony whenever he needed it, and sometimes when he didn't. Tony trusted him enough to give him the number, and Palmer was proud of himself. He was a good friend. He kept Tony's secrets.

_The evidence garage was quiet at midnight. The people that worked there actually went home at a decent time, and you didn't come here if you didn't have to. It was a great meeting place. No cameras._

_Anthony DiNozzo stood next to a messy table, one hand leaning on the surface. He didn't look up, but somehow the agent knew Jimmy had arrived._

"_She apologized to me," he said absently. He was still thinking about that moment where she had kissed his cheek. That second where he should've turned his head. She had been so sincere when she spoke. She had apologized, and all it took was months of torture._

"_Ziva?" Jimmy asked. It was more of a clarification than it was a guess. Tony's obsession with her whereabouts had allowed him to talk about little else. _

_Tony ignored him. It was an answered question anyway. "She cornered me in the men's room."_

_Someday, Jimmy would figure out what Ziva's obsession with that room was all about, or rather, he would let Tony figure it out and tell him. Ziva still scared him most of the time._

"_It's ridiculous," Tony laughed, slighly hysterical. "Ziva told me everything I wanted to hear, and I was sure that an apology from her would make me want to stay."_

"_But it doesn't," Jimmy finished. They'd had this conversation more than once, about Tony leaving, but he never had. Something always held him back._

"_I can't work here anymore. Gibbs doesn't trust me to do anything without him watching every move I make. I can't look McGee in the eye without thinking that I almost dragged him to his death with my vendetta agains Saleem, even though he doesn't seem to care now that we have Ziva back."_

_Jimmy wanted to give Tony his imput, but the man just ranted on, pacing around the table._

"_And don't even let me get started on her. She tells me to mind my own business, falls for a Mossad agent who is ordered to make her fall for him, abandons me when her father wants to kill me, stays in Israel because she can no longer work with me, gets tortured for months, and I am still crazy enough to be falling for her."_

_Jimmy opened his mouth, but apparently, Tony didn't need air in his lungs to speak. _

"A_s if that isn't enough, she apologizes perfectly, tells me everything I want to hear, and I suddenly feel like I can't stay here anymore. I know that keeping the team as it is will get us all killed."_

Palmer could guess what was in each and every letter that Tony had written, and he would be right. Those late night conversations had shown him a side of Tony that he wasn't quite sure what to think of. It had shown him a side of himself that he wasn't quite sure what to think of.

When they gathered upstairs to discuss Tony, he just had to leave. What they were searching for so desperately was in his pocket. It would be so easy to get Tony back. To be selfish for once. Just give the number to McGee and he would trace the cell to it's owner's location. Bring them to where Tony was hiding. Get Tony back where he belonged.

That was betrayal, and he had promised himself he would never do that to his best friend. Not to anyone.

He walked away with sweaty palms. He took the stairs instead of the elevator and refused to look Dr. Mallard in the eye once he entered through the Autopsy doors. He had never been good at keeping secrets, but if none of them knew he had one, they wouldn't get it out of him.


	6. Eli's game

"Where's Ziva?" Gibbs barked at McGee two weeks later. Tim looked up from his computer with tired eyes. Tony was still missing, cases were piling up and everyone was working overtime trying to keep up. There was a lingering presence that Tony'd left behind that wouldn't leave them alone.

Gibbs was angry all the time. He stormed around and refused to sit down. He fought with the director, cursed his witnesses and had even yelled at Abby, who was now ignoring him and refused to talk to him about both cases and personal issues. His own letter still in the first drawer of his desk.

McGee was barely awake. Being the Senior field agent to Tony had been as easy as breathing. Being SFA to Gibbs involved far more work without any praise. He was working twice as hard without any results. He could do nothing right at the moment in anyone's eyes. Tim was busy doing everything he usually did, doing what Tony used to do, and had taken over Gibbs' responsibilities when it came to the director. He was needed in MTAC at least an hour every day. And there was no time left to sleep.

To top that, Ziva was never there. She came to work on time, did her paperwork and left for the gym. Gibbs only noticed when they actually had a case, which was just as odd.

Only when midnight arrived did Ziva come back upstairs and quietly sat next to him, helping him with his new responsibilities and protecting him from Gibbs when the man made his brief appearances.

Ziva was the one who took care of Gibbs as much as possible. She got him home, made him sleep, took away his bourbon when he drank too much. She tried calming him down when there was no stopping him. She was the one that got yelled at day after day and ignored it as well as she could.

The lack of sleep had taken its toll on her awareness, and she'd asked Abby for help. But Abby was hurt and refused. Gibbs wasn't her responsibility, he could take care of himself. She told Ziva that Gibbs should be lonely in his basement. That they should all feel like that, that they deserved it. Abby just wanted Tony back, but all of them knew that at some point there would be nothing to get back to for Tony.

Ziva had that slight darkness back. That small layer that rested atop her skin. Her old wardrobe made itself known again. She no longer put any make-up on.

Ziva spent as much time as possible in the gym, fighting other agents to the ground. She was deadly, like she had been all those years ago. She was proving something to herself, though only she knew what.

Jimmy no longer came upstairs. Only Ducky still saw him everyday and the man tried helping them all with his kind words, as Anthony had asked of him. There was no advise that helped though. These agents were trapped by their own emotions, and everything was going wrong.

"She's boxing, Boss," Tim said. He had his hand on his gear. Gibbs only asked wher she was when there was a case to be investigated.

"Found DiNozzo yet?" Gibbs asked sarcastically. They had nowhere to look. Tony hadn't used his creditcard, his phone was in the trash, his car had been sold, he probably left the state as soon as he could.

"No, Boss," McGee sighed. He had been so sure that Tony would leave a trace, but he hadn't. There was nothing to find.

"Get Ziva."

"Do we have a case?" Tim asked. He didn't want one. Their last case had reached a dead end, so had the one before that. The LEOs were pissed, the media involved, and there had been no happy ending. They'd given up. Two unsolved investigations in as many weeks was unheard of when Team Gibbs handled the case. They couldn't concentrate.

"No, we got trouble."

Nothing good could come from that statement. He let his bag go and ran to the elevator. The gym was almost empty. Only Ziva stood on the floor with a knife in her hand. It was one of the props they used for practicing knife fights. If it touched your skin it gave a shock that was slighly painful, just like when a real knife cut through your skin.

Ziva handled the knife with a grace Tim had never seen before. Her movements were fluid as she moved around. It looked deadly, and he didn't dare to come any closer.

"Ziva," he called out to his friend. She slowly turned around, having known he was there. Her eyes were alert, like a predator with a prey in sight. She looked right through him for a moment.

"Yes, McGee?" she asked slowly, absently.

"Gibbs says there's trouble, he wants you upstairs."

She sighed, her eyes focused on him and lost the dangerous glint. "A case?"

"He said it wasn't. I think it's got something to do with you, actually." McGee had known that the moment Gibbs told him to get her.

Ziva's hand messed up her hair. They reached the elevator. She knew that this had something to do with her father. That meant trouble.

Gibbs was leaning against the cubicle opposite the elevator doors when they slid open to reveal his remaining agents. Agent. Singular.

"Eli David," he said with as much hatred as one could summon,"has fired you." He nodded at Ziva, who stood with clenched fists next to his only agent. "Which means that I have to do so as well."

She frowned. There was no visible hurt in her eyes. She had closed back up again when she stayed in Israel. "Because I can no longer fill the Liason position and I am not an American citizen, I cannot be an NCIS special agent." The words were spoken slowly, as if she was trying to snap the words into place one by one.

McGee hugged Ziva, who stood motionless as her friend embraced her. They did not understand what this meant. She couldn't expect them to. "I will have my belongings packed within the hour."

"Ziver," Gibbs stepped towards her, "go to my place." Gibbs was calmer than he had been for the past two weeks. He could finally think clearly again. She wasn't going anywhere, he wouldn't lose her too.


	7. Jimmy's call

**A/N Thank you very much for the reviews, added alerts and favorites. **

Jimmy sighed. While their workload had in no way increased, the whole building was tense and filled with stressed agents. Even Autopsy, where barely anyone vistited except for Team Gibbs, felt the increased pressure.

When Gibbs entered he moved around angrily He was even more impatient than usual, and he slammed every door that could be slammed. Gibbs only took the stairs from that day onward so that he wouldn't have to stand still during the ride up.

According to Abby, who heard it from McGee, who'd asked Ziva, Gibbs hadn't actually sat down for longer than a couple of minutes since he found out Tony left.

As if that wasn't the worst situation they could be in, Ziva had just been fired. Like, really fired. She was no longer an agent, not that she'd ever been one. She was an officer. Well, she used to be.

How could everything have gone wrong this quickly. Where was the breaking point? Had it been Ziva's kidnapping? Michael Rivkin's arrival? Director Shepard's demise? Jeanne Benoit? Gibbs leaving? When Agent Todd died?

Slowly the crack had formed and with every blow it formed gaps and holes while it crumbled and fell apart. It happened slowly, and yet those main events stood out clearly. Noone had seen it coming either.

Jimmy entered his car and collapsed on the seat. He wanted to think that calling Tony and bringing him back would solve all of these problems, but he knew that it wouldn't. There was just nothing left that kept them together.

Gibbs' reluctance to overstep the professional boundary when it involved Tony had caused most of this. The man had done everything for Ziva, been a father to her when Eli forgot how to be anything but Director David. Palmer couldn't feel sorry for the man who'd lost two children and his wife. Any other man, he would pity, but Eli David just didn't act like a man. Not that he'd met the man, but still.

Tony, who had been neglected by his father at the very least, never got past the basement conversations. The agent knew, on a rational level, that Gibbs cared for him. But the only affection he ever got from Gibbs were the head slaps.

Tony spent many nights ranting to Jimmy about everything he could think of. Things that Jimmy never thought about always bothered DiNozzo on some level. The movie lover had excellent observation skills. He always noticed the little things. Noticed what was missing, instead of what was present.

The man craved praise and affection, at least, that's what Doctor Mallard had said once. The older man rationalized that the lack of contact he'd had as a child was the reason Tony was the way he is now. Jimmy didn't necessarily agree.

Tony was a serious agent and liked making people laugh. He was bad at sitting behind a computer for hours because he had played every sport known to mankind since he joined Little League Baseball when he was old enough.

Palmer didn't think the serious version of Tony hid behind the joker. He knew they were the same person. Not everyone always had walls up that were protected by false personas. Not everyone was looking for that one person on earth that could break those walls down. Tony wasn't damaged, or at least he hadn't been when they'd met.

Jimmy's car drove out of the Navy Yard five minutes later. His right hand was in his jacket's pocket. His fingers curled around the piece of paper. He really needed someone to talk to, and Tony always listened.

His hand moved to his cell while he considered calling. The speaker was still on from his last conversation (when his hands had been occupied holding a liver). He dialed the number he knew by heart, having recited it dozens of times in the past few days. His fingers flew over the keys, his eyes never leaving the road.

The beep made his knuckles turn white as he clenched his hand on the steering wheel. It could be a false number, Tony could've lost the phone, thrown it away.

"Hey Gremlin, how are things on your end?" Tony asked enthousiastically.

"Hell on earth," Jimmy answered honestly. It felt good to say it out loud. Everyone had been thinking it, but he would never consider saying it out loud in front of either Gibbs, Abby or Ziva.

"What's going on?" There was obvious concern in his voice. He still cared about them at least.

"Director David fired Ziva." Jimmy cringed, waiting for the inevitable explosion. Tony's often unhealthy obsession with the ex-Mossad officer made him nervous. He'd almost killed himself and agent McGee trying to avenge her.

"Of course he did," sounded Tony's voice over the phone. "Was there a reason?"

He sounded surprisingly calm, which was a bad sign when Tony should be mad. Eli David was probably on his Top five of 'people whose life I should ruin' list.

"A body arrived that was connected to the Damocles." He suddenly wished he hadn't called. There was no way that this could end well. Unless it made Tony come back to them.

"The Damocles as in Ziva's ship?" Still calm.

"Yes. Officer Ben-Gidon came to clear things up by accusing Ziva of murdering the man in the morgue." He could've phrased that better. He should've phrased that better.

"And you couldn't call when this was happening, why?" Tony sounded annoyed.

"They were handling it, but Gibbs has been pissed since you left and threatened the Officer after they cleared her. I don't know anything more."

"You cannot be serious." Jimmy could hear Tony move around. "If Eli fires her, that means he has a target on her head. God I hate politics."

Jimmy had no idea what that meant, but if Ziva's life was in danger, nothing good would come out of it.

Tony was furious. "Where is she?" he demanded.

Jimmy stuttered slightly. "They…," he trailed of.

"Palmer," Tony ordered.

"They say she is at Gibbs' place. She was taking care of him while he's busy obsessing over you. Are you planning on going home?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope, I'm gonna get her out of there as fast as possible while calling my good old friend Eli and having a little chat. Call me if something happens."

He disconnected.


	8. Ziva's Fury

**A/N Thank you all so much for the support! If anyone thinks that I should change the rating after this chapter, please inform me and I will. This really packed out differently than I'd expected, but this thing wrote itself.**

The house had barely changed since he'd last been there. He had trouble believing that it had changed at all since Gibbs' Wife and daughter had died. Gibbs kept the garden and the house exactly the same. The same kind of flowers and the same coat of paint. The same furniture that Shannon picked out still stood exactly in the same places. The glimpse he once had of Kelly's room showed that no one had been in there for years. Not a thing had been changed. Nothing had been moved around.

Gibbs was still living in that final moment. In his mind he was still living that last day he'd had with them. He still came home every night, able to pretend that his two girls were sleeping upstairs. He was trapped in his world of grief and pain.

Tony had seen him try to move on. He tried to replace Shannon with other women. First someone who was exactly like her, and then with someone who looked like her, but was her complete opposite. They moved in with him, but they could never change anything but the pictures on the wall. Pictures were the only thing in the house that changed. And those disappeared as quickly as they came.

They had all tried to help Gibbs, but none of them had ever succeeded. He didn't accept their help. The man didn't want to move on. He wanted them back, wanted to fill the hole in his heart that Shannon and Kelly had left behind. Only Ducky had ever been able to make him talk about them, but even than it was only to actually discover they'd existed in the first place.

It made Tony wonder how Gibbs had been before he shot Pedro Hernandez.

It wasn't all that hard to figure out. He had looked up the file that Franks kept in Mexico. Mike thought it was a good idea that someone close to his probie knew the truth. The fact that a sniper had put a bullet in the man had been proof enough that Gibbs had stepped across the line that one time, but once was enough.

Tony wondered if that was the reason his Boss couldn't move on. Even if you step back over the line, there is always that piece of darkness that latches on and doesn't let go. It stays with you. And every once in a while you have to cross that line again in order to keep your sanity intact.

He knew Ziva was in there. He could see her silhouette moving around in the living room. He also knew that she knew he was sitting in his car in the driveway. She always covered the windows at night unless she wanted to be seen. It was a habit of hers.

His fingers tapped on the steering wheel. It was his nervous habit. He gathered the courage to go up to her and help her get away. She had read his letter, the one he had written while he was under the impression that he would never see her again. When it came to Ziva he was a coward. It didn't bother him to admit that as much as it should.

He walked up the path and opened the unlocked front door. He found Ziva in the living room sharpening a knife while lying on the old couch with her feet pointed at the door. He decided to ignore his problems at the moment and tried to act as if he'd never written the letter.

"Pack your bags, we need to go," he said from his place by the door.

She hadn't looked up, but she knew he was there. The front door had clicked back into place loudly, and Tony hadn't avoided the creaking floor board. Her knife reflected the light and she stared at its beauty. It had been a gift from Gibbs after she used her knife to kill the woman that held Ducky at gunpoint when she first started at NCIS.

Tony watched her with an impatient stare. "Now, Ziva," he ground out. He couldn't understand how she was so annoyingly calm and he was the one freaking out.

"No," the assassin said thoughtfully, still looking at the sharp blade in her hand. And she was an assassin. She looked lethal as she lounged there with the knife balanced in her hand. She looked like she did all those years ago when she showed up with her reassignment. At the time, she had looked just as deadly, but not as dark. Something about the way she looked at the steel in her palm made him uncomfortable.

That feeling was overridden by the anger he felt. He was here for her, to keep her safe. She trusted him to have her back, she'd said so. Why wouldn't she let him? "What do you mean, no?"

Her eyes locked on his and he fought the urge to step back. Her eyes were dark, unfocused. "It means that you can go back to the burrow that you were hiding in," she sneered.

His first thought, idiotically, was to correct her by explaining that he was hiding in a hole, not a burrow. His second, smarter idea, was to start grabbing her stuff and dragging her with him. One look at her and the blade told him that the first thought was a better one.

"I came here to take you with me." Her relaxed grip on the weapon tensed until her knuckles were white. She got up from the couch and took a step in his direction. He noticed a gun on her right hip that was definitely not issued by the government. His eyes flickered back up when she spoke.

"I'm not leaving."

He was frustrated and she was angry. It hadn't been a good situation when they were at work in front of witnesses, now Tony wasn't sure he would come out of this confrontation intact.

"Why?" He didn't know. He really didn't. She had no reason to stay. "Do you not understand that your dad has a target on your head? Without your loyalty to him you're just another civilian who knows far to much to be allowed to live. You're a liability. He fired you as a warning Ziva. He's going to kill you, and you need to hide. Right now, if you want to live."

The moment he said it he saw it in her eyes. There was an unmistakable glimpse that told him everything he needed to know. She didn't want to live.

"I am still ready to die, that hasn't changed." She was calm again. The defeated tone was similar to the one he had heard in Somalia, where she was tied to a chair with months of torture behind her. Only this time she was free. She had escaped and was back home.

"Why?" He couldn't bring himself to ask another question. That single word, coupled with the desperation he felt was more than adequate to express what he was feeling.

She had been fine when he left. She had passed her evaluation. She had been joking and seemed to bounce back quickly. There hadn't been any layer of darkness surrounding her. She hadn't been hiding it either. They knew her too well for that to have worked.

Her eyes flashed with anger at his inability to understand. She hated him so much right now. He had destroyed the only thing keeping her going, her team.

"When you left when I needed you all to be there. I just wanted everything to go back to normal. I had to take care of myself for a while, and I just needed everything to be like it was before." Her voice broke over the last word. She shook her head, clearing it and calling the anger back to the front of her mind.

He tried to interject, but she was already talking.

"Instead of taking care of myself, I spent the last two weeks making sure Gibbs doesn't keep drinking until he put himself into a coma. I stood in front of him as he yelled at me for Kate's death and blamed me for your cowardly ways because I loved my brother and Michael. I had to help Tim with handling your job, Gibbs' and his own. I tried to keep Abby and myself from having a breakdown while she's looking for you at the same time, because she hasn't stopped crying."

Tony wondered how everything had fallen apart so quickly when he left. He had been so sure that Gibbs would keep the team on their feet. It was the Boss' most important responsibility. Then again, he'd left them once before.

She angrily stepped forward and backed him up against the wall with her knife pressed again his neck. For just a second, he wondered if she would kill him.

"When I signed up at NCIS, I started a game with my life. I knew that the moment Father thought I was no longer loyal I would have a target on my head. Michael was my responsibility. I kept my eye on him and I fell in love with him like you did with Jeanne."

The jab was below the belt, but the knife was still at his throat, so he remained silent.

"And when I stayed in Israel I did it to protect my own life. I had a way to buy my father's loyalty. I was pregnant."

His eyes widened as hers looked away momentarily. He tried to speak but she pressed the blade deeper into his skin, breaking it and making him bleed.

"But I backed out, and I didn't tell him." She looked disgusted with herself. "I got captured on the job, and I told Saleem that I was having a baby. He wanted the child to bargain with Eli, so they stopped with the torture. I told you that no man or woman could resist months of pain." She laughed. It sounded hauntingly beautiful, and yet so very twisted. "They kept me as healthy as possible, but I lost her anyway."

Her grip on the knife relaxed as her other arm wiped her tears away, and he tried to reason with her. "Ziva," he sighed.

"No! Get out! Get back to wherever you came from and leave me alone!" She drew her new gun from its holster and pointed it at his chest. He was armed, but there was no way he could talk her down and draw his own piece. She had nothing left to lose, and there was nothing he could do right now.

Her hand pushed him back and her other hand opened the door. She pistol-whipped his shoulder to disrupt his balance and kicked him. He landed on his back outside and the breath was knocked out of his lungs. He heard her slam the door shut and something inside the house break.

Tony groaned and held his hand to his throat It was barely bleeding, which was a good thing. He stalked down the path and got into his car. The engine roared and he raced through the street.

He needed to talk to Gibbs.

**A/N I really like Ziva, but I'm not exactly sure how I will be getting her out of this one. The fact that Ziva didn't break after months of torture has always bothered me, so this is my explanation.**


	9. Gibbs' Letter

**A/N As always, thank you for the support. I never dared to hope that this would be such a big hit. The rating is T now, as advised by one of the reviewers. I don't want to take any chances.**

Marines are loyal. They are trained to be brothers in every way possible. Their loyalty often knows no bounds, and at the Navy Yard that kind of loyalty was also present. They may not all be marines, but the water rats of the Navy were just as loyal.

He knew hundreds of people by name or face there. Three dozen owed him a favor or two. Half knew of him and his reputation, half a dozen knew him.

Mike was on duty when he arrived. The man was short and muscled. He was still a probie, but he knew Tony.

It was no trouble to get a visitor's pass, even though the protocols took an insane amount of time. His hand clenched around the foreign object. A part of him missed his badge. It had been one of his few prized possessions He liked his life without murder and mayhem but that badge stood for everything he had done since joining the force. The good and the bad.

He handed his gun in at the checkpoint. Usually he would have been head-slapped at the stupidity of leaving his gun behind, but that was behind him now. Gibbs was going to have to answer to him this time.

His anger was controlled by the time he got to the bullpen. His escort, Travis, left him alone because he had known DiNozzo for four years. It made him wonder how people saw him, if they respected and trusted him or not.

The bullpen was empty and dark. All teams were out according to Travis, who'd quickly given him a summary of the past two weeks. But Gibbs and Tim were in MTAC talking to Director David, and that was where he was headed.

Just out of curiosity, Tony made a detour to Gibbs' desk. He passed his own empty space and looked for a second. It was exactly as he'd left it the night he quit. No files, no personal items. Ziva's part of the bullpen looked just as empty.

Anger pulsed through him at the thought of Eli David. He opened the first drawer of the Marine's desk and found his letter. Unopened. He was staring at his own handwriting when a voice startled him.

"Anthony dear boy, are you alright? What happened?" Ducky asked as he came closer with an autopsy file in his hand. The man got closer and Tony had to stop himself from stepping back. Ducky's hand touched the wound on his neck. Tony flinched as the sting of sweat and blood came from the cut.

The wound had bled enough to stain his shirt, which made it look worse than it was. "Ziva happened," Tony groaned at the man. Ducky always tried to make sure he was okay. The man never meant any harm.

Upstairs in MTAC Gibbs tried and failed to convince David to rehire Ziva. The conversation was going nowhere and Gibbs just wanted to go home and check on the woman. He sighed as the screen turned black.

McGee, who was sitting at the computer as the only other occupant in the room, frowned when one of his alarms went of. He disbelievingly stared at his screen. He read it twice to make sure he hadn't read it wrong and checked it before he looked at his pacing Boss behind him.

"Boss," he said with hesitation. "I think I found Tony."

Gibbs' head snapped up and with long strides he moved behind Tim to read. "Where?"

"Here. At the Navy Yard."

Gibbs stared at him for a few seconds and took of with Tim half a step behind him. From upstairs they could already see the two figures. There was no light on, but he would know Tony anywhere.

Tim made a noise that was loud enough for the figures to look up. Gibbs finished walking down the stairs and flipped the light switch. Tony's angry silhouette was illuminated as his agent stalked forward with fire in his eyes.

Before he knew it Tony's arm was pressed under his chin and his back was against the wall.

Tony wished for a second that he hadn't done it. The pain in his shoulder seared through his body. He wondered if Ziva's gun had done any damage beyond a painful bruise. Tony searched Gibbs' eyes for something. Regret, pain, an apology. Instead he found anger.

What for, he didn't know, but it was enough to reign his own anger back in. He was nothing like Gibbs. He could control himself.

"What did you do?" Tony asked him and searched. Gibbs' eyes were not easy to read. There was just a silent and calm demeanor. No word came out of him.

"Let me tell you what you did," Tony growled. "You got drunk and told Ziva that she is to blame for all the misery in your life. You yelled at her that she is the reason Kate is dead, probably blamed her for Jenny too, huh? Do you blame her for Shannon and Kelly as well? After all, someone she knows and loves probably had something to do with it."

That was definitely a blow below the belt, and he had crossed the line. His hurt shoulder and his earlier struggle with Ziva enabled Gibbs to push him away easily.

"Don't you dare talk about them," Gibbs snarled as he pushed Tony into the floor. No one was allowed to say anything about his girls.

"You should look at yourself," Tony said silently. "You are so caught up in their deaths that you cannot realize that you are about to lose another one of your girls."

Gibbs frowned and his grip weakened. The Tony he knew never would've said something like that. That Tony respected him too much to even mention those deaths.

Tony opened the letter that was still in his hands and handed the sheet of paper to Gibbs. His grief had caused so much misery and pain. His anger had blinded him to the things that he should've seen.

"Maybe if you weren't so stubborn, you could have found and saved them," Tony accused. He was done with this. His parting shot rang in their ears as Tony stormed down the stairs. He still had to talk to Eli David.

Gibbs stood like a statue while he read the words of the letter.

_To prove a point._

Beneath it was the address of the house that Tony had been staying at.


	10. Ziva's independence

**A/N This will be my last update in 2012. I wish all you luck for 2013 and I'll keep the chapters coming. Thank you all so much for the amazing support.**

"Duck, make sure he's okay," he ordered before taking off.

He hadn't seen it coming. He should've. With logic and investigating you can figure out the general moves of everyone around you. He knew what people thought. He knew what Tony thought. He knew Tony.

Finding out that he'd just packed his stuff and left baffled him. Tony had been angry ever since Rivkin got involved in their lives, but he had always been blindly loyal to Gibbs and the team. He had been so sure that Tony would stay no matter what people threw his way. After all, he hadn't left when Jeanne offered him a way out, or when Jenny died. So when Tony didn't quit after Ziva stayed in Israel, he'd been sure his SFA wouldn't leave at all.

The Tony that attacked him and threw the deaths of his loved one in his face was so very different. Respectless, rude and angry. It took everything he had not to follow Tony and make sure he was okay.

What Tony had said, that one of his girls was in danger, scared him more than he'd ever admit. Tony meant Ziva, there was no one else that Tony would be this concerned about. Not even for Abby. Ziva's well-being had to be his first priority.

Tony was obsessed with Ziva's safety. It was not dangerous, Gibbs protected his own at every and all cost. That was until they were informed of the Damocles. No survivors.

The possibility that Ziva was dead had broken him, but it had torn Tony apart. Tony's failure to do what took precedence above all else – protecting Ziva – had changed something. The young man had this look in his eyes whenever he talked about her. He had seen the look too late.

As a result, Tony had taken off to the dessert. Tim had been the one to plan their escape, Tony hadn't bothered. Gibbs realized far too late that Tony had tried to die there. Had given up everything for his bloodthirst.

Gibbs had been there himself. He hadn't cared about anything else but revenge, and even now he couldn't let it go, it hadn't made a difference. He'd killed a man, but he never felt guilty. He only felt a slight twinge at the thought that he should be feeling guilty.

By the time he figured it all out, Tony and McGee had been at Saleem's mercy. They got out, with Ziva stumbling between them, and he'd been happier than he could remember in a long time.

Tony leaving had blinded him completely. His own stupidity and assumptions had driven Tony further away. But his letter said something completely different. The address beneath the jab was in D.C., ten blocks from the Navy Yard to be exact.

He had made so many mistakes. Drowning his sorrows in alcohol and snippets of the things he'd said to Ziva flashed before his eyes. How could he be so stupid and say those things?

His house was dark by the time he got there. The blinds were closed and the lights were out as far as he could see. He wondered what Ziva and Tony had said to each other that had angered Ziva enough to attack Tony. The Ziva that had helped him keep it together had been calm and defeated. She was spending all her time in the gym, trying to get her body back in shape after months of captivity.

His own mistakes had obviously been mentioned, but beyond that he didn't have a clue. Gibbs had seen the cut on DiNozzo's neck and his shoulder had obviously hurt. Ziva had attacked him, and Gibbs didn't know what to make of it. A part of him knew that Tony hadn't fought back, even though he could've.

The door was still unlocked as usual and the hallway was intact at first glance. That was when he saw the glass on the floor. The picture of the team that Abby had placed all those years ago still hung on the wall. The frame was intact, but imbedded in the picture was a knife he recognised very well. He'd given it to Ziva. A slight bloodstain stood out on the blade.

The only question he had was if she had thrown it at Tony or not.

He found Ziva in the garden out back after finding the house empty. She was sitting in the grass, reading DiNozzo's letter. She looked up at him and smiled sadly.

It was pitch black outside. The sky was cloudy and no stars were visible. The moon was not in his line of vision either.

"Hi, Gibbs," she sniffed. He stepped closer and saw the tearstains on her cheeks. Her eyes were red and her hair was a mess. She looked into his eyes, searching for the anger she'd come to know so well. She didn't find it. He looked calm and collected, remorseful even.

For some reason she could always tell what the man was feeling. He hid his emotions exactly like her father did. She'd grown up trying to figure out where those emotions were hidden. It was also the only thing the two men had in common.

She was so tired. Her eyes hurt when she tried to keep them open. Her mind wouldn't shut up, alert and expecting an attack all the time. Her muscles were tense and even meditation couldn't make her relax. She couldn't get out of bed in the morning, and she refused to step in it at night.

The nightmares didn't even trouble her, they never had. They just helped her get over everything that had happened in her life.

She was just afraid that she wouldn't get up the next morning. Gibbs' house was no where near as safe as her apartment had been. The door was always unlocked, the windows were easy to access, and the only warning she had when someone entered the house was the creaking floorboards. There was no alarm, no weapons every five feet, and no safe feeling. The house was haunted with Gibbs' memories of his dead loved ones.

Seeing Gibbs like this again, like he used to be, woke a feeling in her.

She wanted to be independent so badly. It was all she'd ever known before she met Gibbs. He forced her to depend on him and his team. He needed her to be a protector, but he always made sure that she asked for help when she needed it. It had scared her a lot in the beginning, but the change had been too smooth to notice until she couldn't live without them.

She had fought so hard to get that independence back when she chose Israel over her team, but she had needed help, hadn't been ready to be a single mom. Didn't want to kill again for her father. Ziva just realized far too late that the ones she wanted to ask for help were long gone, on the other side of the world.

To have that back again, Gibbs in front of her and Tony fighting for her allowed her to get up and let go of that independence. They were far more important to her. Gibbs reached out and enveloped her in a hug.

Standing there silently with tears in her eyes, she wondered if maybe she could learn to love life again.

**A/N Next up: a long overdue conversation between Gibbs and Ziva. Happy new year!**


	11. Loyalty's game

**A/N I'm sorry it's taken this long, but I had to re-write this one a couple of times untill I was happy with it. Thank you all for the reviews and support. I've hit 100 reviews for the first time! You're all amazing. Once again a warning for those who've missed it the first time: this will 99% sure be Ziva/Tony. **

"DiNozzo came by," Gibbs mentioned once Ziva had calmed down. They were sitting on the porch, bathing in the light of the old lamp.

Ziva looked up from her shoes. "What did he say?" she wondered out loud. Her hand clenched around the letter.

"Told me you were in danger," he said casually. The look he threw her way was the opposite, though. He wanted an explanation.

Ziva sighed, resigned. With everything that was happening, she owed him the truth. "Do you want the long version, or the short one?" she asked. His gaze told her all she needed to know.

"I was going to resign from Mossad." She looked back at her shoes. "Not because I hated killing or the life. I am a soldier, I was raised to like it," Ziva began. Gibss raised an eyebrow at the confession.

"I wanted a family," her eyes spaced out, as if she was miles away, "To settle down and find someone who I wanted to spent the rest of my life with. A little boy or girl, and a cat, I always wanted a cat." She grinned at the idea, then sighed.

"But when you're the daughter of the director you don't just hand in your resignation. So I took all I could get. I went overseas to establish contacts and find out what freedom was like. I explored the cities I was sent to and made allies. It paid off in the end when I got to Cairo."

Gibbs had a feeling where this was going and has to ask. "Jenny?" He alredy knew he was right before she confirmed it.

"Yes," Ziva smiled. "I saved her life and she became my friend. I did not have many, so she was very special."

That she was. Gibbs knew that Jenny had changed and that he had treated her unfairly as director. When she was still a probie she had the curiosity and instinct of a good agent.

Jen just didn't do well with power. The chair upsairs had engorged her ego to the point where that instinct and curiosity had been overpowered and useless. Nevertheless, she had been special.

"That was when the kill-order on Ari was activated." That brought up memories for the both of them. A shot going off, Ari bleeding, Ziva softly singing.

"I took the job. I needed to know if it was true, If he was truly a traitor, but I waited too long, and Kate died because of it."

Gibbs wanted to correct her. He wanted to say that it wasn't her fault, but the words died on his tongue. He did blame her on a level. The alcohol had made him say it out loud in her presence, something he never would've done while sober.

If Ziva hadn't accepted the job, but let someone else take the terrorist out, Kate would have survived that day. Any other assassin would've killed Ari as soon as their plane touched down in DC, but Ziva had waited. She had wanted proof, and had let Ari kill Kate. He couldn't make himself forgive her.

She had done a lot to earn his forgiveness, but something like that just couldn't be forgiven or forgotten. He had killed Shannon's murderer, but not Kate's. Ziva was just too important, too precious to him.

But had he known that everything she did had been an order, he would've been tempted to do the same to her. He knew her to well now, loved her just as much as he'd once loved Kelly, but back then he didn't know her, and he had been able to do anything to get revenge for Kate.

He knew that the logic was twisted, but he couldn't let it go. If Ziva had taken the shot back then, Ari would be dead and Kate would be alive.

Ziva knew that no forgiveness was forthcoming, so she moved on. "Jenny, knowing that I wanted out, offered me a liason position at NCIS, working with you. I grabbed my chance." Ziva stood and leant again the wood. Restless.

"I got away and I had a home again. I was no longer a nomad, moving around the world following my targets. I was safe." Her smile was dark and her laugh hollow.

"But everything comes with a price. I had to play loyalty's game." Gibbs shot her a look that told her to explain. She did.

"My father always had to know that I was loyal to him. That was no problem at first, and I never thought it would become one. I had not gotten to know you yet."

A look passed between them. Trust, loyalty.

"Rivkin was his insurance policy," Gibbs concluded.

"He was. I had to choose him over NCIS, but I knew my father. I figured out what his plan was very soon." She looked proud of herself. It had been the skills Gibbs taught her that enabled her to figure it out in time.

"I kept Michael close and everything was going according to plan until Tony showed up." She rolled her eyes, obviously still not over it.

"I made a mistake and fell for Michael like Tony fell for Jeanne. Tony recognized what I had done and came to warn me before I left with Michael. Not that I was planning to."

Gibbs, who hadn't even considered that kept silent.

"It was too late, though." She paused, considering not telling the complete truth, but discarded the thought. "I was pregnant, Gibbs."

The man watched as her already red eyes watered again.

"My father asked for my loyalty when we got to Israel. He asked me directly." She looked at him again, trying to bring the severity of the situation to his attention. "I couldn't risk the baby."

Her eyes asked him to understand. He did. There was nothing in the world he wouldn't do for his own child. His choice to leave Ziva there may have saved her life.

NCIS and Mossad had a tentative truce at best. If Ziva was loyal to NCIS, armed with many of Mossad's secrets, she couldn't be allowed to live. That was what Tony meant.

"And the kid?" he asked as he looked at her flat stomach.

"I could not tell him. I do not know why not, but he could not know about her." She touched her stomach, as if the baby she was talking about was still protected in her womb.

"When I was captured I told Saleem and he left me alone. He made sure I was fed and had enough water, but three days before you arrived I lost her anyway. They started torturing me again."

Her knees gave out, losing the strenght to hold her up as she did everything she could to avoid letting the tears fall. She allowed Gibbs to catch her and keep her close in his protective embrace.

"I wanted to die, Gibbs. You were gone, my father no longer considered me his daughter, and I never held my baby."

Gibbs' stomach flipped over and he swallowed to keep himself from throwing up. He could imagine Ziva as she came home after they killed Saleem, defeated and insecure. She had been through all of that alone.

Her breathing got steadier as she leaned on his shoulder, drawing the arm wrapped around her shoulder closer. "All of you tried so hard to get me back, and being around you helped a lot. It was so easy to hide it all and never speak about it again."

He hadn't even noticed. She'd looked so healthy and energetic when she came back to work, as if nothing had changed, but she'd been pretending.

"I just needed everything to be normal, but then Tony left because of me."

Gibbs frowned and looked at her. She leaned away, unused to hugs and back in control of her actions. He was pretty sure that Ziva wasn't responsible for DiNozzo's resignation.

She waved the letter Tony had written in front of her and Gibbs, already knowing the thing by heart.

_I have known that I was going to leave for a very long time, but I just needed one thing, and that was an apology. It didn't matter from whom, I just wanted someone to recognize that I have always been there every step of the way. And you did. _

**A/N Still not happy, but it is better than the previous versions. I sill can't believe that I got a hundred reviews and alerts, Wow!**


	12. Abby's exhaustion

**A/N Your reviews are amazing! Thank you and enjoy.**

Tony took the stairs to Abby's lab. By the time he stood in front of the goth's closed door he was slightly out of breath. His anger had abated enough that he could calm himself down further. He breathed in and out slowly until he could think clearly.

Abby was unpredictable at best, he couldn't afford to be angry. He had to expect everything he could imagine and more. He couldn't let his guard down.

The door opened and he could see Abby working on her computer behind the automatic glass doors. The machines in the lab were processing evidence faster than any human could. Results appeared on the main computer, many of them negative. No music, only silence.

He slowly took a step towards the glass, watching the doors slide open. Abby didn't look up, focused on the screen in front of her. Next to it was a laptop with security images of the whole building. The frame was divided into twelve different locations, one of which was the bullpen where his old team should be. Another of the room in front of the lab, where he had undoubtedly stood long enough for her to see him with a glance to her right.

Abby looked like she was working on some kind of paper, littered with words and terms that he barely understood or never even heard of.

A quick look around showed that the painting he had given her to decorate was gone, so was the custom coffee mug. It had been a birthday gift with the drawing Kate had made of Abby on either side. It hadn't left her table in years, even though she didn't drink from it.

Every memory she had of him had disappeared. Gifts, team photos postcards. They were all gone. He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it. She'd made him disappear from her life after he walked away. He knew he had no right to feel hurt, but he did.

"Abby?" he asked tentatively.

She still didn't turn around, so he walked around her desk to see her face. He didn't like what he saw. Her eyes were red from crying, tear stains on her cheeks. Her hair, though he should've noticed earlier, was in a messy ponytail, greasy and unbrushed. She wasn't wearing any make-up or black, but brown cargo pants with a green shirt, although the collar was in place. He couldn't remember the last time Abby hadn't worn black on a non-Halloween day.

What frightened him most, though, were her red eyes, unseeing. She was staring at her screen, but was neither typing nor reading. Her eyes were halfway closed, even though he had seen at least four Caf-Pows on his way in.

He leaned over the computer and put his finger under her chin and studied her face. How could this have happened? Everyone took care of Abby. Gibbs, Tim, Ziva, Ducky, even Palmer. Had they really cared so little?

Abby always worked too much. She loved her work and there was always a case to work on. Over the years they had to make her stop often enough. Abby could usually go days without sleep, but they always noticed before she collapsed.

The problem with Abby was that even though she always refused their job offers, she regularly helped the FBI and CIA with urgent cases. He wasn't sure who knew about that, but he thought that even without the extra cases, Abby had to much pressure on her shoulders. To many people wanting either results or miracles, most expecting both.

"Abby," he called.

Her eyes shot up, meeting his and focusing. She immediately ripped her face away from his hand and pushed her chair away from the desk. The wheels underneath the chair squeaked loudly in the silent lab. The scientist stood abruptly.

Her normally pale skin turned white and her wide and scared eyes rolled into the back of her head. Tony raced around the desk, but was too late. Abby collapsed, her head crashing to the floor with a sickening sound.

Tony knelt beside her, not entirely sure what had just happened. Years of training and experience allowed him to think clearly and call for an ambulance.

As soon as he was sure they were on their way he used every memory he had of first aide to help the goth lying on the floor.

A little trail of blood emerged from a head wound in the back, staining the floor. Her breathing was steady, and a check of her pulse taught him that she was very much alive. That didn't mean he wasn't worried sick.

The doors opened to let the paramedics in, who immediately checked the same things he had. The pair took care of her while he called Palmer.

Ducky's assistant answered his phone after the first ring. That was a good thing, because this day had taken a toll on his patience.

"Abby collapsed. I need you to get to the lab, call the team and get them to the hospital, I'll be there as soon as possible," Tony ordered.

He didn't give Palmer a chance to react before he hung up again. Abby was waking up, but he didn't dare to come closer. She had looked really afraid when she saw him, and he had no idea why. He stayed out off her line of sight and gestured for the paramedics to take her to the hospital. Jimmy and Ducky stood by the elevator, waiting. Jimmy had his cellphone in his hand, doing as Tony had said.

It took everything he had not to go with her, but he knew rationally that she was in good hands. Emotions weren't rational, though.

The elevator door closed, and suddenly he was alone.

He tried to ignore the awkward silence, but couldn't. Abby's lab wasn't supposed to be silent, or empty. He grabbed the remote and turned her music on. He winced and pushed the volume down.

Tony sighed, wishing this day could end, and entered Ziva's number. He took a look at her incoming and out-coming calls from the month before and noticed that his number had been called several times in a row. A sad smile graced his face as he went back months further and found the number he needed.

He grabbed his new burn phone and entered it. He sat down and pressed the button with the green phone, allowing himself another sigh.

The thing rang once and he tensed up. Twice. He turned of the music. Three. His eyes closed.

"Ziva?" A familiar voice on the other side of the line asked.

Tony's eyes shot open and he stood, placing an arrogant smile on his face, knowing there was no one to see it.

"No, Director David," he said cockily.

"DiNozzo," Eli David said from behind his desk in Israel, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"


	13. Tony's persuasion

**A/N You guys are amazing! Sorry for the long wait, I hope you think it was worth it after this chapter. Enjoy Tony vs. Eli.**

"Ziva loves you," Tony said. He had absolutely no idea how to dissuade Eli from killing his daughter. How do you prove to the director of Mossad that someone is loyal to him? Ziva's father was easily the most paranoid man he'd ever met. When you have as many enemies as he does ,however, it is justified.

He knew very little about the David family. Ziva, just like him, only had a father left. Neither of them ever spoke about the men. Both had been bad fathers.

Ziva's dad had raised his daughter as a killer. She had been isolated from everyone else. The only games she knew were training exercises in the woods, stalking, hunting, killing. Her best friend had been her brother, who had been raised as a spy. She had been unable to trust anyone because of her father, who had enemies that wouldn't hesitate to use her.

Then again, his own father had neglected him for money and his business. He had often been left alone, or left in the care of a business associate. He had slept in the guest room of a strange house while his father was at a party on the stranger's yacht more often than not.

There were few differences between their fathers. What he had learned of his dad was very simple. Anthony DiNozzo Senior loved him. It was as simple as that. He just didn't know how to express it. All Tony had ever wanted was a little bit of attention. To know that his dad was proud of his scholarship of his work and his accomplishments. The only thing he'd ever gotten was a credit-card with an unlimited budget which he'd never used, preferring to work for his money.

Even after all of that, he still loved his father. The man may be far from perfect, but he had tried. So did Eli.

He had trained Ziva to protect herself from his enemies, tried to keep her alive and with him. He had been so scared of losing his last daughter that he distanced himself from her in an attempt to care less. Step by step until she was just another agent. His best agent, but still just another agent. Replaceable.

He wouldn´t be able to understand that she loved him despite of that, and that loyalty stood apart from that. He had to make the director understand that Ziva wouldn´t betray him. But how? Eli had ordered Ziva to kill Ari when her brother joined Hamas. The penalty for her betrayal was death.

"Is that so? Than why is she not here at home," Eli asked amused. DiNozzo was a thorn in his side. It was him and Gibbs that had taken his Ziva away from him. They had made her weak, vulnerable, a target. Because of those two men there was no hope for Ziva. She would always go to them now. She did not love her father anymore, had no loyalty left for him. He was dead to her, so she was dead to him.

"She is," Tony argued calmly.

Eli snarled. What wouldn't he give to end the cocky bastard once and for all. Too bad he could not afford killing an American agent without losing a handful of allies. NCIS was the heart of the alliance between Mossad and the United States, killing their agent was a fool's plan. Eli was no fool.

"Ziva is loyal to you," Tony started, but was interrupted.

"Eli is all but dead to me," Eli recited. Those words had barely fazed him. He knew that Ziva hadn't loved him since he ordered her to kill Ari. "That is what Ziva said."

Never had he thought that the same fate would meet her. Ari had been a bred soldier, who had always hated him, but loved Ziva so much. Ziva had been his sister by blood, and by choice. Ari had protected her and trained her. Her brother had pushed until she was the best in everything she did.

He was so proud of her. She had the best shot, the best combat skills. She was the best spy and the best infiltrator. He let her know as often as he could how much she meant to him. Ari's death has separated them, created a huge wall that he couldn't break through. Things he did that had never bothered her before had suddenly become a problem. Orders she usually followed without question were disobeyed or refuted.

When Director Jennifer Shepard had contacted him about a liaison position for Ziva he had agreed, knowing that it was better for her to take a break. He had never anticipated that the loyalty she had manipulated out of Gibbs would be returned.

After everything, she was still his daughter, but she did not think of him as her father, felt like he had betrayed her. The bug in Gibbs' basement had told him enough.

He wondered what she saw in these men that kept her attached to them. He had heard Gibbs yell at her in a drunken rage, heard her cry herself to sleep. Yet every single night she kept coming back, stood by them because of a loyalty Eli could not understand, didn't think they deserved it from his daughter.

Conversation after conversation made him wonder why. Agent Gibbs forgave her for things he would've killed an officer for. Betrayal, working with a foreign agent and lying about it, disloyalty. He could not understand why they kept Ziva. He couldn't figure out why Ziva wanted to stay with them.

She was his weakness. That hadn't been a problem before, knowing that she was one of the best in Mossad. After years with the Americans she had slacked. She was emotional and unpracticed. Her once outstanding skills were average at best. Sending Liat, Ziva 2.0, to the US to eliminate her was necessary. There were too many enemies that could torture her for information. She had no reason left to endure that kind of pain for an agency that she had betrayed once before.

"You broke her trust, left her to die in Somalia, and you think she still wants you around?" Tony didn't bother to hide the incredulity in his voice. Was the man really that socially incompetent?

"You do realize, DiNozzo, that you just proved my point for me?" Eli inquired.

Tony resisted the urge to slam his head against the nearest wall. Stubborn people always did their best to interpret your words to their advantage, finding malice and subtext in every sentence.

"She loves you because you are her father, because you spent your life trying to protect her. She would never betray you. Not to us, not to your enemies," Tony sighed.

"Sometimes it is just easier to pretend someone is no longer there. You can't look at them and not think of all the bad things that have happened. That doesn't mean you don't love them, it just means that too much has happened for it to be right again. It's easier to pretend they never existed at all."

It's how he felt about Jeanne. About how much he loves her, yet he can't be with her. How he can't look her in the eye, knowing that nothing they say can repair what they once had.

It was how he felt about Ziva when she didn't board the plane back home. If the reason for your pain never existed, there is no pain to feel. But Ziva had known exactly what to say. Had repaired what he thought to be unfixable. But still, every time he looked at her, he saw her with a gun pointed at his chest, lying on the ground with his arm in a sling. It's why he left. There is no pain, if the cause of it doesn't exist.

It could have worked, but he was unable to let her go, get her out off his thoughts.

He was about to elaborate, when a beep informed him that Eli hung up. He stared at the cellphone curiously and wondered what that meant.


	14. Ducky's negligence

**A/N Ever had writer's block and killed of 80% of your characters out of frustration? That's the reason I haven't updated anything. If you have any suggestions as to where you want this to end, PM me or leave a review, because I really don't have a clue and you guys deserve an ending. **

The waiting room was crowded. Even without the numerous NCIS employees there were crying children and sick adults all over the place. The small group had gathered in the east corner while McGee was at Abby's bedside, getting the complete story.

They all looked up when Tony slammed the double doors open and stalked towards his former colleagues. His tense posture warned them not to mess with him. He didn't look angry, though, which was probably for the first time that day.

It was just after 2 AM on a Monday morning and as far as Tony was concerned the week could be over already. All he wanted to do now was check up on Abby's condition and go home for a few hours of sleep. He had work in the morning, so it was a good thing he was used to sleepless nights after all those years with Gibbs.

The group stared at him as if they couldn't believe he was actually there. Ziva couldn't look him in the eye, choosing to stare at her heels. Gibbs had his head tilted sideways as if he could figure Tony out by staring long enough.

"How's Abby?" Tony asked quietly.

It was Ducky who answered. "She will be okay."

"But she isn't right now," Tony said through gritted teeth.

"No," Ducky relented, "It seems as though she went through all the stages of a burnout within the past two weeks. She admitted that she hadn't slept in three days, which caused her to hallucinate. Mainly about you."

Tony tried. He really tried to calm down and gather his thoughts, but everything about these people just forced his anger to the surface. Abby had apparently been hallucinating for so long that she was scared of his mere appearance. She had fainted when she saw him.

"I asked you to take care of them! Is this what you call taking care of them?" he questioned the doctor. The man looked at him regretfully.

"I am sorry, Anthony. My mother has been in the hospital, she almost died last week."

Heads turned as they looked at Ducky. Tony's head swerved to Gibbs. "Did you know?"

Gibbs shook his head and softly called his friend. "Duck?"

Tony ignored them both. He walked up to Jimmy and asked him for the room number Jimmy gave it without hesitation, and smiled hesitantly as Tony laid a proud hand on his shoulder.

Tony, either forgotten or ignored by the group in heavy discussion, waded through the crowd on his way to the woman's room.

He watched the window for a while. He looked on as Abby cried in McGee's arms, pale and shaking. He tried to read her lips, but came up empty, as most of the words were mumbled against McGee's now wet shoulder.

He knocked forcefully on the open door before he lost his nerve and entered. Abby looked up and saw him. Her eyes shot to McGee for confirmation. Tim (who apparently understood the simple gesture) nodded in confirmation. Abby's smile was bright enough to light up the whole room.

He couldn't help but smile too. He approached the bed and got his arms full of Goth scientist. Her arms were crushing him, but that didn't really matter. He wrapped his arms around her.

It had been strange to go without her hugs these past weeks. They had been a part of his day before. They always made him feel accepted.

"How did you get in after visiting hours?" he asked Tim. The man smiled and checked for curious nurses. Not finding anybody he proudly looked at Tony.

"I told them that she was in danger and that I was her protection detail."

"That actually worked?" Tony asked incredulously.

Tim nodded, biting his cheek.

They talked through the night, just the three of them. None of the others came in, but Jimmy visited briefly to tell them they were heading home.

Whenever anyone had been injured, everyone had always stayed the night. That is what you do. It was simple loyalty, devotion. It was as if no such thing had ever existed.

Tony lectured Abby on taking care of herself and ordered her to drop the non-NCIS cases for a while. She muttered something about distraction, which made him feel guilty, but agreed in the end.

It was seven when Tony's alarm rang on his cell. Time to get up for work. He sighed and stood. Tim and Abby watched curiously as he grabbed his coat from the highly uncomfortable plastic chair and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"I'm sorry guys, I have to change and go to work."

Abby looked sad but exited. "You got a job? Where."

"I teach PE at a high school," Tony said, kind of embarrassed He might not be very good with the little ones, but teenagers actually liked him when he taught. It had been a favor from one of his college buddies who headed the school. One of the responsible guys that had two kids and a white picket fence.

"Really?" Abby asked. She could barely imagine it, but he sounded like it made him happy, and that was what really mattered.

Tim had enough decency not to burst out in laughter. It was just hard to imagine Tony strutting around with a whistle around his neck, ordering kids to run around and punish them for things he had probably already done when he was still a in a position of authority at a school was unimaginable.

"Keep an eye on her, will ya," Tony ordered Tim as he hugged the scientist in the hospital bed. "I'll be by your house some time this evening."

**A/N I mean it guys, inspire me!**


	15. Sarah's appearance

**A/N You have no idea how happy your reactions make me. Have fun reading!**

He wasn't sure if it was an advantage or not, because he missed his suits, but there was something ridiculously amazing about wearing sweatpants to work.

He didn't have time to go to his apartment, so he used the bag in his trunk to grab a set of clothes from. He went to his small office that was adjacent to the gymnasium and changed. He entered the gym and looked around. The cleaners had been by sometime during the weekend, as the floor shined and the equipment was neatly in place.

After his day he really didn't feel like setting up nets, so he adjusted his lesson plans and threw himself onto the pile of blue mats that were as comfortable as Gibbs' couch. He closed his eyes and before he knew it he feel asleep.

Sadly, not forty minutes later, he jolted awake as the school bell rang loudly and his first students came to start the day. He could feel the bags under his eyes, begging him to go back to sleep. He wished he'd had the sense to grab some kind of caffeine on his way to the school. With a sigh, he stood and ignored his protesting muscles.

His class, seniors, consisted of barely twenty children. Two thirds of the class were boys, some of them very much like he had been. Athletic, popular, but none of them were as good with the ladies as he was.

He refrained from looking at the girls in his class. Even though most of them were legal by now, he really didn't feel like encouraging their not very secret crushes.

When he had taken this job he never thought he would actually be good at it. Sure, he was an athlete but kids had never really been his thing. He barely bothered to consider having kids of his own, so he never would've guessed that he knew how to handle teenagers.

It was simple really. He had done pretty much everything they could think of, so he stopped them before they could actually carry out their plans. That, and he taught PE, where the only students that failed were the ones that refused to move away from the bench. He didn't doubt that he would fail spectacularly if he had to each biology or history.

On his way to the center of the gymnasium he grabbed a ball from the unlocked cage and bounced it into the middle of the gathered group to catch their attention.

"Today's game will be about ambition, cunning, agility and trust. This game has only one purpose: Dodge." Tony smirked as his voice echoed through the gym. The groans of some of his students made him roll his eyes in exasperation. There would always be someone who didn't like the lesson, but who didn't love dodge ball?

He split the group in two teams and watched as the students went down one by one. The last one standing was the captain of the swimming team, a blonde, a grade A-student and the girl who just couldn't stop exceeding everyone's expectations. What most people didn't notice was the hand-shaped bruise on the back of her calve.

He still wondered if it was the coach of the swim team or if she'd gotten it at home, he did know that she'd been offered a scholarship and would be safe at the university in a couple of weeks with early admission. It was the cop in him that wanted to question her and arrest the culprit, but he was waiting until he could inform one of his fellow teachers so they could handle it. He had far too little experience with abuse.

Speaking of his colleague, he wondered if her brother had called her to inform her of recent events, probably not.

His day went by without any mishaps, and he was relieved when he finally had the gym to himself at four. He cursed the architects of the building for forgetting to put a nice window in the gym for some fresh air once in a while.

He grabbed his leather jacket from the hanger and went outside. The bleachers were mostly empty, except for the cheerleaders that were watching their boyfriends practicing for the next game on the field.

He laid down on the top bench and stared at the cloudy sky. He thought of Abby, probably home by now, who had collapsed in front of him. He thought of McGee, the bags under his eyes and his messy appearance. Gibbs, the man that had watched his team fall apart and done nothing about. Ducky, whose mother had almost died. Jimmy, unappreciated and ignored when he was smarter and more capable than most of the fresh meat that came from the academy. He pondered Ziva, angry, tired and haunted, while she held a knife against his throat.

He was about to descent into a haze of memories when someone ruffled his hair. He groaned in frustration and opened his eyes to see Sarah shove his legs to the side and sit next to him on the cold wood.

"Brooding again?" Sarah McGee asked with a raised eyebrow. And hadn't that been a shock. Finding Tim's little sister in the teacher's lounge on his first day at the school.

"I'm trying to," he sat up with a groan, "but hot girls keep interrupting me."

The one thing about Sarah Mcgee? Off limits. He could flirt with her all he wanted without ever convincing her to go on a date. Mostly because she would never date him, but partially because she was Tim's sister and an angry McGee is a scary McGee. Besides, McGee carried a gun, and Tony was unarmed most of the day.

She laughed and bumped her shoulder against his. "What happened?"

Sarah was probably the only one who knew his whole story, even Jimmy didn't know as much as she did. When he'd felt alone she had been there to cheer him up.

"Abby collapsed at work. A burnout. Your brother and I were with her all night at the hospital." He really didn't feel like talking about the reason why he had been there in the first place.

"Why were you there in the first place?"

The thing about Sarah? She spent so much time with her brother that she'd picked up a few of his skills. That, coupled with her womanly instincts made her an annoyingly amazing investigator.

"Ziva is in danger," he said, as if that explained everything.

Sarah had her own opinions about his old team, and most weren't all that complimentary. She still believed that whatever he and Ziva had was more like obsession or addiction than love. She thought that Abby was leading her brother on and couldn't really like the goth because of that. Sarah was also sure that Gibbs had no right to lead a team after all he had done.

That was because Sarah didn't know them, hadn't been through all those things with them. Usually, she kept her opinions to herself and gave an objective perspective, but there were stories were she said what she thought and didn't hold back.

He told her everything that had happened since Jimmy called, and Sarah listened silently, only occasionally asking for an extra explanation.

Neither of them noticed the female figures by the gates.

**A/N I like Sarah, the timeline fits and I didn't feel like creating an OC…**


	16. Liat's ambition

**A/N I'm glad everyone likes Sarah. I always felt that we get to know everyone's family but McGee's. I also feel that Tim doesn't get enough attention, and even though Sarah was a spur of the moment I think I will give him a story-line as well, like the one I gave Ziva and Abby. What do you guys think about that?**

Ziva observed the scene in front of her. Tony was sitting on the bleachers with a pretty brunette. She looked too old to be a student, so she was either a colleague or his girlfriend.

She walked closer, not bothering to be stealthy. He wouldn't hear her from this distance and she was mostly out of his line of sight.

Sarah McGee. Her well-trained memory had no problem recalling the last time she'd seen the girl. Sarah had mistakenly confessed to murder and her brother had done everything he could to prove her innocence.

She had met a completely different version of Tim that day. He had been confident and stubborn. He had also been cunning and trusted his sister completely. Ziva wondered why the siblings were as close as they were.

Ziva had been closer to Ari than she had been to Tali. Mostly because her little sister had always liked dolls and make-up and boys, while Ziva had preferred fighting and shooting.

Ari had helped her train and often called her his greatest accomplishment. She was independent and strong, cunning and ambitious without loosing her soft beauty. It had been her brother who listened to her when Eli was too busy, who bandaged her wounds and kept her safe from their enemies.

Killing Ari was still one of her greatest regrets, always would be. Once she'd returned home to Israel her father had come to her for the first time in months and told her he was proud of her. Proud that she'd killed her brother to protect her father. Another loyalty test, the first she had failed.

Not because she hadn't killed Ari, but because she'd done it for the wrong reasons. She hadn't done it to keep Eli safe, not to keep Gibbs safe. No, in the end, she had shot her brother to protect herself.

Ari had been the first domino in her plan to get away from her father and Mossad.

He hadn't been part of the original though. Her first plan had been far less complicated, far less likely to fail. She would run away with Ari before her father sent the Kidon unit to kill them both. But Ari had been guilty of his crimes. He was a terrorist and had killed far too many people to get away.

At the time she had still been guiltless. Ziva had been emotianally distant and a killer. Her body had been an object to use during seduction. Love and commitment had been weaknesses and had no place in her world.

Her time in DC had changed her more than she would've thought. Her mind had been used to investigate cases instead of finding the best way to assassinate the next man on her list. Her knowledge of hand-to-hand combat allowed her to protect and defend instead of attack and hurt.

Over time she had lost interest in sharpening her skills and it had almost cost her her life in Somalia, unable to keep up with the fast pace of the Kidon Unit.

Her train of thought stopped right there. She didn't need to think about those months anymore, they were better left behind in the past.

A gloved hand reached out from the shadows and grasped her shoulder. Ziva froze and images flashed past her eyelids.

Suddenly she was back in the concrete room with aching joints and burning skin. Salim circled around her and stopped behind the chair. His gloved hand rested on her shoulder as he whispered in her ear. A gunshot went off upstairs, but luckily reminded her of Salim bleeding on the floor, a bullet in his skull. It wasn't real, it was over.

She snapped out of the memory and attacked. Blindly, wildly. The first blow her opponent landed bruised her rib, but allowed Ziva to break the jaw with a well-placed punch.

The woman stumbled backwards and Ziva recognized her immediately. Liat, better known to Mossad as Ziva 2.0. A better version of her. Cold, ambitious and cunning. The little girl still had a lot more left to learn.

Liat straightened and approached her target carefully. This was her chance to prove once and for all that she was the best, that she could beat this excuse for a former Mossad Officer and member of the Kidon unit.

It didn't take long for Liat to grab her knife and point it at Ziva, knowing that her opponent's height was a disadvantage if the Mossad officer continued this type of combat. Ziva made her own blade appear and smiled. This girl was good, but she was rash and unbalanced. She was trying to hard and distracted, putting them on equel footing.

With two slashes and a kick she had Liat pinned to the ground and her knife raised to stab her. Half her mind was still back in the desert, small flases of pain crossed her reality.

"Ziva!" a voice yelled from the road behind her.

Years of mindless obidience to the familiar voice made her sheath the knife and face the voice's owner with her prisoner in front of her.

She caught up with her own actions and pressed her gun against Liat's back. Her hostage tensed.

Quickly getting aware of her surroundings she took a quick look over her shoulder, noticing that the school and the football team were out of sight.

The temporary distraction was a mistake that she never would've made before she came to NCIS. Liat got the drop on her and had Ziva on her knees with a knife to her throath before she realised her mistakes.

All she could do was stare at her father as he approached her. He hadn't changed much. He was still the director of Mossad in his expensive suits with his cold expression.

"So this is how it ends, Abba?" she asked with her eyes pointed at the ground. Ziva couldn't look at him. If he had sent his officers it would've been fine, but he was here, for the first time in years, just to watch her die. The woman could not look him in the eye, not when this was Eli's grand finale. The death of his last child.

No answer. She heard the snap of someone canceling the safety on a gun in the distance. Her father wasn't here to watch, he was here to put a bullet in her heart.

A tear fell to the ground.

The knife pressing into her throat pulled away and Liat stepped back. Ziva braced herself for gunfire, and looked up, ready to look death in the face for the last time.

Instead, Tony DiNozzo stood behind her father, his gun pressed against Eli's temple.


	17. Eli's wish

**A/N Every review brings a smile to my face. Thank you all for the support and I hope you like this chapter.**

"Ziva, come here," Tony ordered quickly. His eyes didn't leave Eli for a second.

Ziva snatched the fallen weapons and wearily created a distance between herself and the dangerous woman. She had no idea what was happening, but something was wrong. Every instinct she had told her that she was missing something.

"DiNozzo, I hadn't expected to see you this soon," Eli spoke calmly. The man didn't seem fazed by the threat on his life or the look in his daughter's eyes as she came to stand beside her former partner. His officer looked angry and panicked, not ready to lose her director to two civilians. Trained civilians with more skills and tricks up their sleeve than most of her Mossad colleagues, but civilians none the less.

Tony ignored his hostage and reached with his empty hand to touch Ziva. "You okay?" he asked.

Ziva was still deep in thought. She tried to make sense of the flashes of memories she called to the front of her mind. Something she knew could settle the panic in her body. One little detail that was hidden behind a maze of knowledge. She sifted through them as quickly as she could, trying to keep her thoughts as far away from Somalia and the Damocles as she could.

The Damocles

"Malachi!" Ziva shouted, turning her body towards the road to find him next to Tony. Too late.

"Present," his voice came. His gun was pressed against Tony's back, digging painfully into his spine.

Mossad didn't nessecarily work in pairs, but Eli always had two guards with him. Always. How could she have missed that? She had forgotten. No, she had been to busy fighting the pain and memories that had been driven to the surface while fighting Liat. Ziva had been distracted and unfocused, creating the perfect path to her own death, and now Tony's.

Tony gave his gun to the officer without any protest, and they could do nothing but watch as the Mossad trio gathered and Eli's guard aimed their guns.

It was Eli who pressed their guns down, so they pointed to the ground. Everyone knew better than to try something. Ziva and Tony were unarmed, and the others knew that.

"I just came to talk, Ziva."

The other four looked at him like he was joking. Liat and Malachi glanced at their boss before turning back to their targets. Ziva looked like she was struggling not to throw her head back and laugh. Tony made his point by raising a single eyebrow.

"Why?" Her voice was cold and incredulous at the same time. Just seconds ago he had pointed a gun at her head with his finger on the trigger.

"DiNozzo reminded me of my son," he explained. Not that any of them actually understood what he was trying to say. He elaborated: "He reminded me of what you once did for our family, and I found that I owed you the same courtesy."

"The same courtesy? She killed her brother." Tony looked at the man like he would like nothing more than to put a bullet in his skull. Like he regretted not pulling the trigger when he had the chance.

"Ziva went out of her way to prove Ari's innocence before she followed her orders and killed him. Contrary to your believe, DiNozzo, I do not want her to die by my hand, or anyone else's. Neither did I want my son to die. Just because Israel's safety is my main priority, that doesn't mean I do not care about my family."

Tony looked like he was about to argue with the director, but was stopped when Ziva laid a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. There was no point in arguing. Her father would always believe that he was right, would always place her behind his country and his position.

"I do not wish to fight," Ziva said quietly, "and I do not wish to die." Tony tensed under her small hand.

There were tears in her eyes, just seconds away from falling. She stepped closer, away from Tony and closer to her father. Tony tried and failed to keep her back. Liat raised her gun against the threat, but was stopped by her boss' hand on her wrist.

"I remember singing during dinner like Imah taught me. I remember playing in the woods with Ari, protecting each other and making you proud. I remember brushing Tali's hair and playing hide and seek as she smiled and laughed all day." With every memory she mentioned she stepped closer until she could grab his hand, ignoring the others. Tears fell silently as she recalled them one by one. Happier times, when even Eli had laughed and kissed his wife and been in love with life and family in their own corner of the world.

"Should our family really die at the hands of its own members, like Ari killed Imah, and I killed Ari?" Her voice broke. She swallowed and blinked the tears away. Her mother's murderer had been her own brother, that was what Amit Hadar had discovered years after they had both died. It had broken her heart all over again, and Michael had been there at the time to put the pieces back together, even though both of them had known that everything they had was fake.

"We cannot have that again, ever. They are gone, and I do not know how to bring them back. But does this have to end with one of us dead, Abba?" His hand was clutched in both of hers. She was pleading with him, and for that short moment she was a little girl again, seeking forgiveness after failing her father.

Just like he had told Leon Vance all those months ago: "I have always had one wish for your future. It is what I have spent my whole life fighting for. I wish you will not have to make the decision with your sons and daughters to raise them as killers. I would like my grandchildren to be doctors and architects, to live a happy life, to grow fat and old. I want you to be safe. That is how I want this to end, Ziva."

Eli drew his daughter close and kissed her hair for what he suspected to be the last time. He had a chance to give his daughter that life, and he couldn't take it away, not when she was so close. The only way to give her that future was to create as much distance between them as possible. To allow her to settle down and raise her children in a safer part of the world. And maybe, if they won and the Israeli people could find peace, he could retire and come back to America and meet his grandchildren without fearing for all of their lives.

He let her go, wiped away her tears and walked the short distance to his car, knowing his officers would follow him. He had a war to fight.

**A/N I hope that you guys enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it. It was the only believable solution I could think of, and I believe above everything else, that they do love each other and have a very special bond. **


	18. The law's judgement

**A/N Again, thank you for the reviews. Spoilers for Rekindled! Enjoy!**

It was silent after the Mossad car turned left and went out of sight. There were no yells from the players on the field 200 feet away. There was no loud whistle from the coach as he called his team. They were alone.

Ziva could only stare at the spot she'd last seen her father, possibly for the last time ever. She was trapped inside her head, didn't notice it when Tony grabbed his cellphone and dialed his friend.

DiNozzo was busy reassuring Sarah when a car raced towards them. Tony easily recognized it as Gibbs' wheels and told Sarah that it was safe and the threat was non-existent.

He hung up on her with a quick goodbye when Gibbs and McGee got out of the car with their guns in hand. Their eyes canvassed the area unnecessarily "Clear!" Tony called out to them.

The ex-agent approached his former co-workers when he noticed McGee widening his eyes in surprise. He only had a second to turn around before he had an armful of Sarah McGee. He ruffled her hair and let her make sure he was uninjured before he pulled away from the hug.

Sarah immediately jumped to her brother and enveloped him in a hug as well. McGee, surprised but happy, hugged his sister back while Gibbs went to Ziva and shook her out of her daze with quiet words.

The five gathered in a circle by Gibbs' car. It's owner raised an eyebrow, looking for an explanation. Surprisingly, it was McGee's brave little sister who spoke up.

"Tony and I were sitting on the bleachers after class." Seeing the look her brother shot her, which pleaded her to tell him that she was not doing with Tony what he thought she had been doing, she hastily added, "Talking. I noticed someone over by the fence getting attacked. Tony recognized Ziva and told me to get the students inside and call Tim." She nodded to her brother.

Tony picked her story up. "I knew Ziva was in trouble, so I went around back and found her on the ground with a knife pointed at her. Long story short. Ziva's safe, Mossad won't be a problem anymore, and Eli David was never here." He cut it short because he really didn't feel like telling the whole story. He was going to stay out of this. Nothing was getting on paper.

Gibbs glanced at Ziva for confirmation, which made Tony grit his teeth and clench his fists in frustration. Did everyone distrust him now?

The woman nodded, and so did her boss. "Get in the car," he ordered the group. Ziva quietly thanked Sarah as they got in the backseat, Tim opening the other door and placing himself next to his sister.

They were already in the car, leaving the passenger seat open for Tony, when they noticed he wasn't going anywhere. Gibbs climbed out off the car with a sigh.

Tony, tense from his confrontation and adrenaline coursing through his body, didn't feel like talking and turned on his heel. He was planning on going to his car, but when he threw a; "Have a nice day!" over his shoulder he found a calloused hand resting on it. A burst of pain shot through him, the joint still aching after his time in the desert. He shook the hand off and faced his former boss.

"What is your problem?" a frustrated Gibbs asked without any subtlety. He was tired of Tony running away from him. If Tony left now, he would have no idea where to find him, although Ziva might tell him how she found the school Tony taught in the first place. He needed to fix this mess, quickly.

"My problem?" Tony laughed. "Let's see." Tony pretended to think it over.

"I became a cop because I rescued a boy from a burning building, and for three weeks straight I heard his little sister screaming in my head as she was being burned alive, just because I wasn't good or fast enough to save her. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to save people, protect them." He could still, after all these years, feel the heat on his skin. Hear the house collapse around him and Jason begging him to save the girl.

"You became a cop to punish the guilty. You murdered a man out of revenge and think you are above the law. You believe that your kill was justified, just like all the men and women in our interrogation room do. And when Jenny did exactly the same, killed a man in cold blood, you damned her like the hypocrite you are. I think that you are a bitter, lonely old man that spent the last eight years taking it out on me and them." Tony threw a hand in the general direction of the car.

Gibbs' face was completely blank as Tony ranted. He couldn't deny the truth in his agent's words.

"You want me to turn myself in?" Gibbs asked without betraying anything he was feeling. He'd always known Tony was a better man than he was. He had known it the moment he met him. But he had never considered that Tony knew, let alone hated him for it.

Tony snorted at his question. "No," he said with certainty, "I wanted you to stay in Mexico, you have no right to be a cop."

That was a lie. Tony had needed Gibbs back then. Needed his guidance and stability while dealing with the Benoit case. Gibbs leaving had felt like the foundation of his being had been torn apart. Still, everyone hated a dirty cop, Tony especially after his old partner had been exposed as one. To have a killer in the director's chair and a murderer as his boss, no matter how justified it was, never did sit right with him.

Cops should not be above the law.

"You wanna know the worst part?" A bitter smile graced Tony's face, a troubled frown creating wrinkles on his forehead. "I can't help but look up to you. You are without a doubt the best agent I've ever met, bar none. I never considered turning you or Jenny in, because you are good people, and you've done a lot of good. You've solved cases that no one could crack, you saved people where others couldn't. You'll continue to do a lot of good."

"Tony," Gibbs said quietly. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say, he just knew he wanted Tony back. He needed Tony. He had to say something before Tony said anything he couldn't take back.

Tony shook his head, somehow knowing what he was going to say before he knew it himself. "No. I can let you do it, because I know that innocent people will die if the truth ever gets out in the open, but I can't stand by and watch it happen. I won't."

Gibbs stood silently as he watched Tony enter the school without looking back. How could he fix this?

**A/N Sorry for this, I just think that the writers of the show got way too improbable while coming up with new story arcs. I am quite sure that 80% of the team should be in prison by now….. I just had to get it all out.**


	19. Love's Hate

**A/N I actually made the 150 reviews! Thank you to everyone who's made this possible. I wanted to update earlier to celebrate, but I had to study for half a dozen 'important' tests :( Enjoy!**

**Warning: Minor swearing. Like, twice….**

The car ride back to the Navy Yard was spent in silence. The agents in the backseat had overheard the heated conversation, and wondered what else Tony had hidden from them over the years.

To them and Kate, Tony had always been the loyal one. He had stepped in front of bullets for his boss. Their friend had protected Gibbs and gone to the end of the world for him when it was neccesary. And yet, he looked at Gibbs with undisguised hatred and pain.

Had they really been so blind? Was it possible for someone to protect and love someone else when you hate them as well?

McGee knew better. He could understand really well why Tony admired the man. Gibbs was strong, smart, charming and protective. Their boss was one of a kind. He'd always done everything he could to keep them all safe.

As a man, the loyalty he had to his wife was amazing. He'd killed for her and his daughter, kept them safe until he no longer could. Had always been there for them when he was able to.

As a cop, though, that was unacceptable. To a cop, Gibbs was a murderer, it was that simple. But Gibbs was special, unlike any other man. People turned their heads and pretended Gibbs was the saint in their stories, while he was actually very much like their killers in a lot of aspects.

It didn't bother Tim much that Gibbs had taken revenge on his family's murderer, he knew he would do exactly the same for his little sister. Everything for Sarah.

Sarah, who said next to him, had known what Tony would say. When her friend had told her, she'd spoken freely. Every opinion she had about Tim's team had rolled of her tongue, laced with frustration and worry for her brother and his friend. Called Tony on some of his behaviour as well.

She was not the usual geeky college girl never had been. Tim had taught her what was acceptable, taking the role of parent while their father was employed overseas, or simply too busy to take the time he had with his kids.

At school, she had been smart, pretty and popular, an unusual combination in most high schools. It was her brother who'd showed her that you can be smart and successful without being a geek. That Tim, while unpopular and a geek in school and probably at NCIS as well, was also a best-selling novelist. When it came to his writing, Tim was confident and strong, surprisingly charming even.

She had taken that lesson to heart, but instead of spreading those personality traits among two separate lives and social circles like her big brother, she had mixed them all together.

Sarah didn't know exactly why she could get along with Tony so well, but she was very much aware of the fact that she had been the first to know about his anger at his boss. She had simply been a familiar face at the time among a sea of new people. He had just snapped after a week at the school, not used to being without his team this long. Wanting to be with them without having to work with them.

And while Tim and Sarah knew, it was Ziva who understood, maybe even more than Tony. Her father had been an amazing Aba and husband. It was when her mother had taken her children away from Eli that it went wrong. Without his children to distract him from his ambition, his career with Mossad had taken the first place among his priorities. His appointed position as director had been celebrated by his family at first. Eli would be in a place where he could protect them and help their country.

His job gradually changed him, little by little. Ziva had noticed the changes. He was colder, distant, but at the time that didn't matter. He was her father and she loved him. It was after she had finished her training and became an officer that she started hating him.

She hadn't even noticed her changed feelings at the time. Maybe because she was still in denial, or otherwise because she didn't see him enough to be obligated to investigate how she behaved when he was near.

When she came back to NCIS after Vance had terminated her liaison position, she knew the truth. She didn't hate her father, never had. She hated his job, where he worked. Because without his title, he was still just her Aba, and she could never hate him.

What Tony felt was real, and it wouldn't change just because they wanted him too. Tony liked the job, he just hated the politics that walked hand-in-hand with it. He had told her in as many words.

Tony, who was on the road to his apartment, felt stupid. There was a reason he'd never told Gibbs, a reason that he'd never given him the original letter. He honked at the driver in front of him, mostly out of frustration.

He couldn't take this back, couldn't ignore it like he had for years. The words, his thoughts, were out in the open. His team wouldn't forgive him for what he said, and the little wish in the back of his mind (the one that wanted to be back in the bullpen with all the trouble that went along with it) went up in smoke.

"Damn it!" he yelled to his empty car. He felt the urge to hit something, anything. Hell, anyone.

He parked his car in front of his building and observed the small park in sight with longing. A few years ago he would've started running and keep going until his legs collapsed, the anger gone. These days he couldn't even do that. His scarred lungs were too painful when he was out of breath, air burning in his chest and throat.

He just barely passed his physical the first time after the Y-pestis, and each year it had gotten worse. The doctors hadn't been able to do anything else to improve his lungs. His body was slowly getting worse and with every breath he took he felt another ten years older.

His anger was replaced by a frustrated sadness. Some days it felt like all he was capable of was watching movies and eating pizza. Even alcohol was a no-no these days, with small exceptions. There was no beer left in his fridge, only an unopened bottle of the good stuff and red wine for the occasional birthday present or a fancy dinner.

He trudged up the stairs, the adrenaline in his system still in effect. The place was great, but a small part of him longed for the comfort of the place he'd called home for a decade. In the end, the move had been for naught. They'd found him at the school, and could easily access his address on file there.

He had a fleeting thought to go out and find a woman to drown his sorrow in, now that booze was unavailable. He shook his head, not feeling like conjuring up the charm to convince said woman.

It would be meaningless anyway.

The couch, the only old piece of furniture he took with him, was comfortable as he threw himself on it. He grabbed the remote and felt lucky for the first time this week as his favorite movie flashed across the screen.

He watched for five minutes and fell asleep with the soft noise of his tv buzzing in his ears, the remote falling onto the soft carpet.


	20. Tony's distraction

**A/N Because there should be a food fight in every fic.**

He woke up the moment the door opened. Even though the silence wasn't broken, he knew exactly when someone pushed the handle down and soundlessly entered his apartment.

Tony cautiously opened his eyes, wondering who would break into his place at this ungodly hour. He only saw a flash of black before arms surrounded him and squeezed him tight. Abby.

"I was so worried! I only just heard about the attack and we hadn't heard from you and I know your shoulder still hurts and I can't believe no one told me. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Abby rambled.

"Can't breathe," he breathed out with the last of his air.

The arms loosened slightly, but refused to let go. He filled his lungs with oxygen and gently pushed her away so he could look at her. She was still sickly pale and the bags under her eyes had cleared up slightly. The difference was that her eyes were sharp and focused, laced with worry and slight panic.

"Aren't you supposed to be on bed-rest or something?" he asked.

Abby settled on the couch, Tony's legs on her lap. "I was, Timmy drove me so I could see you. He was worried too."

"Didn't he tell you that I don't even have a scratch?" The first time in ages that he was able to get out of a fight unscathed.

Abby looked at her lap, twisting her hands around each other as a nervous habit. She wasn't quite sure if she should say it, but everybody had been thinking it. They were all wondering.

"We thought you would leave again." She choked on the words as tears welled up in her eyes. "They," she hesitated, "They said you called Gibbs a murderer."

Tony froze, which was enough confirmation for Abby to let the tears she had been holding back fall. Could he really tell Abby this? She loved Gibbs, more than anyone he'd ever met. She admired the man and more often than not pretended that his faults didn't exist. Was in denial over the clear truth.

The murderer of Shannon and Kelly had been killed by a sniper, that was all the proof Tony had needed at the time. And they had all figured it out. McGee, Ziva, Ducky. But Abby, probably a better investigator than all of them, had missed it simply because she didn't want to see it.

If he told her straight out, he would forever break her hero-like view of Gibbs into pieces. Pieces that couldn't be glued together.

Looking at Abby now, recovering from a severe burn-out and salty tears trailing down her cheeks, he knew that it wasn't his place. If anyone had to do it, it would be Gibbs himself.

To Abby, Gibbs was the perfect man. Tony couldn't risk driving this wedge between them. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Abby would always choose Gibbs over him. Regardless of what the sniper had done in the past. Tony wouldn't be able to live with it if she actually confirmed that nagging thought. So he took the coward's way out.

"If you want the truth, you have to go to him. It's not my place to tell you, Abbs." He wiped her tears away and swung his legs off the couch. He pulled her close, resting his chin on her head.

"But know that I'm not leaving again."

He hadn't even considered it. Seeing them, broken, torn apart, made sure of that. He wasn't sure if it was because of his departure, but he couldn't stand aside and let them suffer, whether it was his fault or not.

Abby sobbed into his shoulder, breathing with loud gasps as she ran out of air. She had been so lost without Tony. She missed the jokes and innuendo. The smiles and banter and the head-slaps.

She had buried herself in her work, accepted cases from other agencies just so she wouldn't have to think about Tony. Things just weren't the same without him.

Tony ran one hand through her hair and grabbed his cell with the other. He dialed Tim's familiar number and pressed the green button.

McGee picked up after the first ring, undoubtedly thinking something was wrong. He was still waiting in the parking lot, even though Abby had said not to.

"Special agent Timothy McGee," came from the other side of the line, "How can I help you?"

"Hey McTim, do you feel like getting up here for breakfast, I'm feeling like pancakes."

A tentative smile broke out on Abby's face at the mention of Tony's pancakes. She was still quietly sniffling, but had calmed down. Just like Tony had predicted.

"I'll be right up," Tim replied and hung up. Tony looked at his cell, not quite believing his probie just hung up on him, McGeek was getting more confident with every passing day.

Abby untangled their limbs and pulled Tony up and to the kitchen. Tony smiled as he trailed after her and grabbed the ingredients from the fridge. The forensic scientist was far more enthousiastic and gathered the flour from the pantry and put two pans on the stove.

The front door, which was still open after Abby picked the lock, showed McGee had arrived. He took a seat at the table, knowing that Abby and flour could very well be a deadly combination. The last time she had cooked with Tim they had ended up with spaghetti on the floor and sauce in their hair.

Now that he was thinking about it, it seemed like they could read his mind. Tony, who had put the necessary flour in a bowl, emptied the rest of it on Abby. She gasped, wiping the white substance out of her eyes with her black sleeve.

It was a distraction from all the pain, the anger. Just like old times, having fun and laughing.

The scientist grabbed the nearest egg and hugged Tony, breaking the egg on his neck and allowing its contents to slide down his back. In retaliation, he grabbed something that Tim couldn't see and Abby ran away from him. To avoid what Tim now identified as the syrup, she hid behind him. "

"Tony," McGee warned him as the man approached with a smirk, "Don't!"

He was too late, the sticky liquid covered his front with Abby completely unharmed. It was on.


	21. Kate's grave

By the time they were done cleaning and had eaten the delicious stacks of pancakes that Tony had eventually been proud to present, it was time for his friends to go to work.

He had another 90 minutes, school starting at 8:30, so he went to an old friend for advice.

The graveyard was quite creepy with the small amount of daylight available. Grey headstones were neatly placed next to each other in long lines. He knew exactly were to go, approaching the mausoleum.

Kate's grave would be just around the corner, his flowers from two weeks earlier withering on the ground above her casket, exactly how he'd left it.

He was about to round the corner, the path familiar enough that he could observe the graves instead of look where he was going, when he heard a voice.

He stopped dead in his tracks, recognizing the voice without any difficulty, the slight Israeli accent announcing Ziva's presence. She was talking to Kate as if they were old friends. Despite their extremely different personalities, they could very well have been.

The Israeli was babbling on and on about her week, as if she'd done this many times before. Tony was about to make his presence known,not wanting to eavesdrop on a conversation like this, when Ziva's story took an unexpected turn.

"Abba has offered me my job back, and Director Vance has reinstated me as the liaison between Mossad and NCIS until I get my American status. I'm just not sure if I should accept," her voice wavered, as if she was considering holding something back.

Tony frowned, wondering why Ziva would even hesitate to get her job back. Until she got a new apartment, she was living with Gibbs, and he would never let her say no.

"He called me Kate again."

The man traced his memories, trying to find an instance when someone had referred to Ziva as Kate. From the moment he met her, talking with a hallucination of Kate, to the moment he stood here, by the mausoleum, hidden in the shadow. Still, he didn't doubt that at least this time, she meant Gibbs.

Had Tony ever said it? He didn't think so, but maybe he'd forgotten, or just didn't notice. How many times had she been called Kate and not said anything?

"I have always been your replacement, and nobody ever bothered to say otherwise. Maybe I should start over, find a new job, like Tony did. He seems to enjoy the school very much. I never really pictured him as a teacher."

"Neither did I," Tony spoke up as he finally rounded the corner. Ziva was on her knees, a simple rose in her hand, ready to be put on the grave of his fallen friend. It wasn't fair to listen in on her conversation like this. Talks like this were private, so he pretended he hadn't been listening.

He came here to ask Kate for advice, but it seemed like he would be the one giving it today.

"Tony!" Ziva exclaimed, jumping to her feet. Tony smiled at her, flustered and embarrassed, with red cheeks. He couldn't tell whether he was the cause, or the cold, but she looked adorable.

"How did you find me yesterday? I covered my tracks." And he had, because they hadn't found him until he showed up at their front door. She could've followed him, but he had been looking for her car and Gibbs', so that shouldn't be possible.

Ziva grinned, obviously proud that she had found him, and wanting to brag she'd found him first.

"You had someone on the inside," Ziva started.

Tony nodded, knowing that his inside knowledge would probably give him away sometime. "Once I knew that, it wasn't all that hard to trace it back to Jimmy. And when he refused to give me the number, I was at a dead end. He is very protective of you."

"He is," Tony interrupted. When it counted, Palmer was the best friend you could have. This was a secret he wouldn't have spilled, no matter who asked.

Looking annoyed at the interruption, but agreeing with a nod, she continued: "That was when I realized that you weren't doing anything." Tony raised an eyebrow in a Gibbs-like gesture. "You weren't buying anything, living anywhere. You didn't have a job. McGee couldn't find any transactions in your name, and unless you had a stack of cash, you were using another identity."

Tony was leaning against the wall of the mausoleum, his right foot resting flat on the concrete behind him. Ziva was approaching step by step, gesturing wildly with her hands. She had really learned a lot about investigating while she was in America.

"So I went further back in your transactions, looking for an account that you were using as an alias. When I didn't find one, I searched your alias from previous cases, and I found the one you were using."

It was smart, he had to give her that. He had been sure Abby would find that trail first, and if not her, than Gibbs.

"Anthony DiNardo. I didn't think I would ever hear that name again." She stood next to him, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She observed the cars on the road just visible through the bushes and trees, waiting for an answer.

"Being DiNardo put some things in perspective for me, I needed that."

He had needed the reminder. That he had to think about his future again, find something that made him happy, away from the politics of the office and the frustrating relationship he'd never quite managed to built with Ziva.

"You are a man of your word, are you not?" Ziva asked him out of the blue, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Without confirmation of the decidedly odd question, she continued: "Can you promise me you'll talk to Gibbs?"

"That's none of your business, Ziva," he snapped. It was a sore subject, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk about it to anyone but Kate, who couldn't judge him or rat him out.

"Maybe not, but Gibbs is not… Gibbs. He is being rash and if the team has to continue this way, someone will get hurt. Which is a part of why you left, yes?"

Tony weighed the options in his head. He knew he had to, for the very reason she mentioned, but he just really didn't want to. He could admit to making a mistake and be a man about this whole mess, but he really didn't want to face the stony silence that was Gibbs. As long as he put that conversation off, he could still fantasize about ways to get them all back together in one unit. After talking to Gibbs, that would be stripped away, leaving him no choice but the life he had now chosen.

Sure, he liked the kids and the school, the pay wasn't as horrible as he'd expected and the staff was friendly, a clean slate. Still, he was very much aware of how that clean slate could disappear with time, and if that happened, he would have nobody left.

"I will talk to Gibbs," Tony relented. He saw the corner of her lip twitch in a smile, and he wiped it away for her with his next words: "If you get some help."

The smile didn't just disappear. It was replaced by a furious expression that shot him a glare as she distanced herself from him, their touching shoulders separating.

"What?" she gritted through her teeth.

"Look," Tony said in a no-nonsense tone, "You haven't been dealing well with what happened. Instead of talking about it, you tried to turn yourself back into the woman you were a decade ago. It doesn't work that way, Ziva. I don't know how you fooled the shrink –probably one of your ninja-skills- but there is something wrong, and if you want me to help, I'm here. You're not alone, Ziva."

Ziva went from angry, to confused, to a cross between relieved and annoyed.

"Deal"


	22. McGee's loyalty

**A/N Thank you all for the support! I can't believe you're all still sticking with me, even though I didn't update last week, and I'm soooooo very sorry for that, my muse was pestering me with other fandoms, and I wasn't exactly sure were I was going with this plotline (still don't, by the way). I welcome any tips, advice and ideas. Also, I think I fixed most of the grammar/spelling mistakes, but if I missed one, don't hesitate to tell me! Enjoy!**

Tony drove straight to Gibbs' place. He wasn't sure if the man would actually be there, as the team should be working by now, but he wanted to have this ridiculous excuse for a talk out off the way.

Ziva needed help, that was clear as day to him. She would only hold up her end of the deal if he went through with his part, so he manned up and pulled into the parking space with skill.

Two cars down, McGee sat in his expensive ride, waiting for something or someone. Most likely Abby. His suspicions were confirmed when the goth walked out off the house, Gibbs nowhere in sight. Her head was down, her shoulders slumped,and her arms crossed over her stomach as if she had to physically hold herself together.

So she had confronted Gibbs. Tony had been pretty sure she would, if only because Abby hated lies, and needed the truth. Obviously, it hadn't been a good talk, as Abby looked like she could collapse any moment.

He opened his door, making his friend look up at the sound. As soon as she spotted him, she sprinted into his arms and clung to him as if she was planning to never let go. Loud sobs interrupted the silence of the early morning, casting a shadow of depression across the neighbourhood.

The only thing that he felt guilty about would be letting that little detail about Gibbs slip. Not only had it burned any bridges left between Gibbs and his ex-senior field agent, it had shattered a part of Abby's ever present innocence.

It was a heavy weight on his shoulders as he took in the woman's trembling form. He never knew that the cost of his actions would be this high. Then again, maybe things could've gone worse. He never bothered to consider 'what if's. He burned the bridges and didn't look back. It's what always worked for him, except in this instance. He had stayed with NCIS too long to leave everything behind.

"You're supposed to be at home, resting," he reminded her gently, steering her toward McGee, who jumped out of the car to help with the distraught scientist. Abby opened her mouth to answer, but whatever she wanted to say reminded her of her broken heart, resulting in more sobs. She clung even tighter, her hands on his back, nails digging into his skin through the cloth.

His sore shoulder protested as he let her, offering the only comfort he could. He shot a helpless look at Tim, who shrugged. "We got the day off, so she wanted to talk to him," McGee explained.

It didn't really help Tony much, because he had absolutely no idea what Gibbs had said to her, only that it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

He looked around for Ziva's car, knowing that she was still living with her boss until she had enough money for a new apartment and to replace all the stuff that had been blown up in the explosion. If she was home, he wouldn't have to go and ask Gibbs why the hell he'd made Abby cry like this.

Her car wasn't there, so he had no excuse not to go inside.

Thinking quickly, ordering his thoughts and discarding his doubts, he made a plan that was likely to succeed, and motioned for McGee to come closer.

Abby had fallen asleep, exhausted from the past weeks and the stress that accompanied the recent revelation. Her head rested on his chest, his hands on her waist the only thing keeping her upright.

Slowly, as not to wake her, he gathered her in his arms, bridal style, and handed her over to McGee. She weighed far too little to be healthy, and neither man had any trouble carrying her. The pair manoeuvred her into the back seat of the car, McGee shrugging of his jacket to place underneath her head as a pillow.

Soundlessly, Tim closed the door and turned face-to-face with Tony. They hadn't talked about it yet, choosing to skate around the topic this morning while Abby was still confused. Tony wondered what Tim thought of him. Believe it or not, Tim had always been the biggest puzzle to the investigator.

Sure, his team contained a happy goth, an autopsy gremlin, a story-telling ME and a female ninja-assassin, but the geek was the puzzle. Most wouldn't say so, after all, McGee was a simple geek according to every rule-book. He had known better.

Not at first, though. Tony had always been the popular jock, so his first conversation with the guy in front of him had resulted in the 'geek label . He had been pretty sure he was right, but McGee kept popping up at the most random times, whether it was to fix computers or help with a case, something had set of the alarm in Tony's head.

The second time he saw McGee, a while after their joint case, he'd known the probie would join the team. Maybe not now, maybe long after he left NCIS himself, but Tim would be a field agent some day, probably one of the best.

It was the way his probie knew to shut up and listen. How his mind took in everything they said and learned from it without any effort. The way he would sometimes straighten up and take a stand, just often enough to remind people he was better, but still remain in the back-ground, quietly studying how, when ,what, where, why.

It made Tony proud that he had been able to train Tim as an investigator, and as a man. Seeing Probie thrive in his position as Tony's Senior field agent, if only for a few months, had confirmed everything Tony had puzzled together. One day, it would be Tim staring down at the bull-pen, watching his teams work as he took a break from endless conversations with the SecNav in MTAC. Because Tim had what he and Gibbs didn't: Political insight, a peaceful solution to every conflict, and most of all, an absent temper, allowing him to work with the most stubborn minds in existence.

Yet, that didn't matter as much to Tony as the friendship he and McGee shared. Unlike all of the other friendships in his life, with Jimmy as the exception, the one he shared with Tim was still unshaken. There had been nothing to crack or break the trust between them. It made Tim's opinion on this situation and all the ones before this matter more than anyone else's, because unlike Palmer, Tim would always be objective, and never choose a side because it was the right thing to do, but because it was the right side to stand by.

"What triggered it?" McGee finally asked. From all of the questions he had, that somehow seemed to be the most important one on his list.

Tony considered his question carefully. "I had been planning it for a while," he admitted. It was nothing that Tim didn't already know. His swift disappearance from their lives had screamed premeditation. It was however, a nice avoiding tactic "I almost did two years ago." He'd been ready to leave many times before that, but never had he wanted to so badly.

The confession made Tim cock his head to the side in contemplation, like he often did when faced with a puzzle. Tony solved it for him. "Jeanne asked if I wanted to leave with her."

Tim looked understandably shocked. "She wanted you to pack your stuff and leave with her to the middle of nowhere?"

Subtlety was not Mcgee's strongest point. Then again, it wasn't Tony's either. Still, he winced at the blunt tone. Probie obviously underestimated how strong and real his relationship with the woman had been. They all had.

He twisted the bracelet on his wrist, a habit that he'd developed somewhere this week, when he found it and put it on. It drew Tim's attention. He grabbed Tony's wrist, raising it to take a good look at the band. Tony wanted to protest at the invasion of his personal space, but considering how often he disregarded Probie's, he let it slide.

"Mental ward?" Tim laughed. He found it fitting that Tony would have something like that. He looked at the rest of the inscription, seeing Jeanne's name. "She has your sense of humor."

"She does," Tony laughed while thinking of the first woman to conquer his heart, genuinely for the first time with Jeanne in his head. The same taste in movies, jokes. She had changed him more than anyone ever had, probably more than anyone ever would. Allowed him to see what he was missing as he moved every couple of years. She taught him what a home could mean, and made him realize that he had that right there at NCIS. In the end, the reason he wanted to leave was the reason that made him stay. Why move again when you've finally found a place to call home?

He nodded at the scientist in the back seat. "Get her home, I still have to talk to him."

McGee agreed, moving to his car door. Even though he didn't have any of the answers he thought he would finally get, he didn't need them. He couldn't do anything else until Gibbs and Tony talked this out. So with a nod, he said: "If you need anything, call," and closed his door before taking off.

**A/N I don't know if the constant mentions of Jeanne is bothering anyone, but I love her character, and what she meant for Tony. I think that she is in some ways, what Shannon is to Gibbs. That one woman that will forever be in his heart. **


	23. Turn back time

**A/N The long-awaited scene between Gibbs and Tony. I hope I did it justice!**

The path to the basement was familiar. Tony had gone there too many times to count, for advice, explanations and simply for silent companionship.

That was the thing about Gibbs, he was there when you needed him, without question. He had been so unused to it all those years ago, that he became almost unhealthily dependent on Gibbs. It had just felt amazing that someone was always there. Not by obligation, but out of loyalty.

So after his first two years were up, he had felt no inclination to leave. He had so much more left to learn, was second in command and he finally had time to joke around and have fun while working. He didn't have to prove himself, Gibbs knew very well where Tony's skills ended.

And for two more years, everything had been as close to perfect as it could be. With Kate and Probie there was time for laughter and work, and while he had to prove himself over and over again, it didn't annoy him like it used to.

He should've learned his lesson. When everything is perfect, the only direction you can follow is down. He felt like he'd fallen from a cliff. Starting with Kate's death, his luck had turned without pause. Tony no longer remembers the peaceful times, only fights and betrayal.

So when Gibbs's ex-Senior Field Agent reaches the top of the stairs and sees his former Boss drinking Bourbon like water, a destroyed piece of work on the cement floor, it's the first thing that comes to mind.

"I should've quit when Kate died."

Gibbs locked their eyes, and Tony felt a jolt of satisfaction that he had finally managed to sneak up on the man, no matter how drunk he probably was.

"Doubt it," Gibbs shoots back, recovering quickly, despite the haze of alcohol clouding his thoughts.

Tony purses his lips, waiting for Gibbs to speak. He was sick of always blabbering on and on. He could play this silly waiting game. As minutes tick on however, he was less sure that he could actually win it. Gibbs is just staring at him, knowing that Tony will eventually vent his frustration.

Yes, he has made mistakes, but he's not going to hang for it. He doesn't need to justify his actions, knows that on some level Tony agrees with what he did, even though he thinks himself incapable of that much hatred. Gibbs saw it in Tony's eyes when they found out that Ziva was dead.

He has over two hundred cases under his belt. He's listened to every motive, watched the most unexpected people end up in his interrogation room. Gibbs doesn't like to admit it, but everyone can become a murderer in the right circumstances.

In his own thirst for revenge he had icily put a bullet in Hernandez' head. The only thing he regrets is that it made it necessary to erase his little family's existence from his life, keeping their memories in hidden boxes and cash-paid storage facilities.

Maybe Tony is right by calling him a hypocrite. Gibbs never claimed to be perfect.

Tony breaks the silence, like Gibbs knew he would. "Did it make you feel better?" he asks, and they both know what he is talking about.

Tony can't help but wonder. Does revenge really leave emptiness behind, like the characters in his movies often claim? Does a twisted from of justice still feel like justice.

"You tell me," Gibbs replies, in that infuriating way of his. Tony doesn't remember the last time Gibbs said more than a dozen words in a row.

The cryptic answer confuses him, bringing frustration back to the surface. Gibbs knows exactly which buttons to push.

"Somalia," Gibbs clarifies, reading Tony far to easily to make him comfortable.

Watching Saleem go down, blood seeping onto the floor, is the closest he's ever gotten to revenge, because Rivkin doesn't count, he never did.

He had felt satisfied. Ziva was alive, their captor dead, and they were going home. He can't remember all that clearly how he felt about the terrorist. He remembers blinding hate, and after that he just blanks. He doesn't remember the moment the foreign man went down, just the body as they struggle to escape.

Saleem is not important while Ziva is alive and home, he's just another terrorist, a footnote in a rapport. There was no revenge left the moment Ziva was uncovered on the chair in front of him. He just recalls exhaustion and pain.

Tony doesn't grace Gibbs with an answer, but instead pushes the one button he knows Gibbs always has. "Abby was crying." It was below the belt, really, but they need to talk, not have a one-sided conversation.

It works. Gibbs clenches his teeth and his knuckles turn white as he grips the table. He does, however, recognize the tactic, and retaliates with his first question. The only one he has.

"What do you want from me, DiNozzo?" he grunts out tiredly. The past few days have taken their toll on everyone, even him. Abby can't look at him, Ziva treats him like a child and Ducky shakes his head in disappointment when he thinks Gibbs isn't looking. He wishes Jen was here, she would have a solution for all of them.

Tony drags his back across the wall, using it to lower himself to sit on the steps. They are barely even looking at each other. "I want something you can't give me. I want them all back, I want to breathe without hurting, I want to turn back time." They are stupid wishes, impossible and slowly destroying him from the inside. Still, he would do anything to make them come true.

His job at the school is temporary, his apartment is still bare and clinical. His friends have been pushed away one by one and he never had much of a family. Truth is, he feels like he's got nothing left but his DVD-collection and a box of haunting memories.

NCIS is a part of him, and he knows deep down that he can't really live without it. He misses the banter and the head slaps. The puzzles and the satisfaction at putting more evil behind bars.

"Three weeks," Gibbs states out of the blue, yanking him from his train of thought. He looks up, and sees Gibbs standing three steps down. "Turn back time," he finishes. The broken sentence makes perfect sense to Tony. Three weeks ago, they were still a team, flawed and broken, but they had been a well-oiled machine, back together after too long apart. Maybe not perfect, but together.

Gibbs hands Tony the bottle with Bourbon, and he younger man wastes no time taking a swig. The liquid burns down his throat, and he grimaces in disgust. He's been drinking the stuff for years, and still doesn't like it. Gibbs sits down next to his agent, and they sit in silence.

Sure, they can break open any number of the problems that slip away from the surface, but it won't help anything. They just need to find the middle ground, where they can work together again, like they did years ago, when it was just the two of them.

"McGee asked for a temporary transfer, Ziva won't return until she has her citizenship."

Gibbs' words surprise him, both the amount and their contents. Ziva must've called right after they went their separate ways, and McGee somehow squeezed his time somewhere in between.

"Why?" He doesn't have a better question.

"A break, I guess," Gibbs shrugs. It is quite obvious now how serious the situation is. Gibbs is letting both of his agents go without a fight must've make the director raise an eyebrow in confusion at the very least.

"Can't turn back time for ya," Gibbs murmurs, "But we can start over. You, me, Abbs, and Duck." It comes startlingly close to a plea, the way he says it, and Tony barely has to consider it.

It's not going to be easy. He has his bad lungs and Abby is still mad. There are three dozen of secrets between them and Gibbs is still a bitter old hypocrite, but that was exactly how they started out a decade ago, so the second time they will do it better, make fewer mistakes.

And if they do fix this mess between them, and work hard to get the unbreakable trust that was once between them back, they can repair their little family member by member, and no matter how long it takes, they will be a team again.

The Gunny, the Joker, the Ninja, the Geek, The Scientist, The Doctor, and the Gremlin. Because if there's one thing Tony's learned in the past few weeks; it's that family should stick together.

**A/N I can't believe it's over! Thank you all so much for sticking with me. I am still amazed by the number of mails in my inbox, and each and every one of them has made me smile. I hope you liked this chapter, even though my muse took a while to report back to me… I will be writing an Epilogue before the end of the month, so hit me with any ideas you might have on the subject! **


	24. Linchpin's strenght

Their first case, inevitably, goes very wrong.

Until Tony dug up all the resentment between the two of them, things had been just fine. The quickest way to get back to their old routines, which had worked for almost a decade, was simple: They kept everything buried and pretend that nothing had happened that could've torn them apart in the past few years.

While Gibbs and Tony manage to work together in a companionable silence like their unspoken agreement dictates, everything and everyone else works against them from the start.

They interview their witness together, easily finishing each others sentences and flawlessly following the same logic. She refuses to cooperate,though, and lies her way through the interrogation and disappears while they turn their backs to look at the body.

Ducky disagrees vehemently with their buried feelings when he finds them crouching next to the body after arriving late as always. Palmer smiles when he sees Tony, but Ducky takes one look at the way they are acting and ignores them as much as possible, subtly narrating tales linked to their resentment and feelings of betrayal to the body as he takes the liver temperature. He firmly believes that suppressing all of this will eventually blow up in their faces, and he's right.

They retain their companionable silence until it is time to get the results from their ballistics from Abby. The woman is upset with both of them, and while Gibbs knows very well why she is mad at him, neither of them can find out why she's pissed with Tony.

She rushes through her explanation, pushes them out of her lab, puts on the loudest music in her collection and locks the door behind them, refusing the Caf-Pow and making sure Gibbs can't kiss her on the cheek. When the door closes, she slides down against it and remembers all the hugs he's ever given her, and how she misses the affection already.

It leaves Gibbs mad and Tony confused, and they don't speak to each other during the left-over investigation. No one is exactly sure how they manage to do it, but despite the stony silence, they find their murderer by the end of the afternoon.

Their lack of communication eventually results in a cold case.

They can't convince their witness to testify and Abby can't find the evidence they need to lock the guy up. Their murderer smiles cockily as he exits the Navy Yard 48 hours later, both agents' eyes on his back.

Gibbs recalls all the events from the past days and finds that the only positive thing about the case is that Tony still calls him Boss, which neither of them had expected, but is a welcome familiarity among all the changes.

* * *

When Tony visits McGee and Abby at her apartment the same day, tired and defeated, she leaves him on the doorstep. Confused and frustrated after the day he's had, he is relieved when Tim opens the door again to let him in.

He makes his way to where he hears Abby in the kitchen, but McGee stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Knowing that when it comes to their scientist, Tim is the go-to guy, the older man nods and lets his probie steer him to the couch.

Tony isn't ready for yet another heart-to-heart. He doesn't want to hear what he's done wrong this time. The guilt is already weighing him down. Instead, he deflects the pending lecture with a question of his own.

"Enjoying the new job, McProbie?" he asks, genuinely curious.

It had been a surprise to all off them when Director Vance hadn't sent McGee back to head cyber-crimes Even Gibbs had frowned in confusion when Vance announced that Tim would be accompanying the director as a protection detail until he was ready to rejoin Team Gibbs.

They don't doubt he can do it, but all of them wonder about Vance's motive behind the assignment. The position allows McGee, if he does it right, to make contacts with agents and politicians all over the world. It is half a dozen steps up from Junior field agent, and a good career move. Vance wants McGee higher up, and that intrigues Tony, especially since getting his own job back from Vance was an absolute nightmare.

McGee smiles, and it is obvious that he's been enjoying his new job for the past few days. "I went to New York with the director. Meeting the chief of police there after he got sworn in was an honor. He and director Vance are old friends."

That doesn't really reassure Tony. After all, Vance and Eli David go way back too. He is happy for Tim though, he seems to be the only one that had gotten better of in this mess.

He was about to ask Tim more, but Abby appears in the doorway and stares at Tony.

"Are you feeling better, huh?" Abby starts. "You left us, could very well have been dead!" he feels a long lecture coming up, and can't help but look down at his shoes in shame. Whatever she says is probably well-deserved, and he can't bring himself to argue with the woman.

"You show up here, take your job back and suddenly everyone is supposed to act normally? If you can do that, why the hell did you leave in the first place!" she's furious now, pacing from her window to the couch and back.

"Everything went to hell, and if you'd just acted like a man in the first place instead of the coward you are, we would all still be together!"

Abby stops in her own tracks, and looks at Tony for the first time. He doesn't look up, doesn't wish to face Abby's judgement, not when she means so much to him. She looks at her friend and sees a shell. Tony hasn't made a single joke, hasn't played around. It is frightening to see the agent like this.

What Tony doesn't expect is for Abby to lift his head by his chin and look into his eyes with a gaze that is part toned-down anger and part apology.

"I shouldn't call you a coward," she says quietly. It hurts her to see Tony vulnerable as much as it hurts Tony to see her upset. They have been friends for years, and she can't stay mad at Tony for this.

After all, she has more than once considered accepting a job offer from another agency, for many reasons she chose not to, but the FBI offer still rests under her pillow. Has for the past month. She can empathize with Tony's moment of weakness (, or maybe strength, she isn't sure.)

* * *

One case turns into a dozen, and it gets easier with time. Ducky (, arguably Gibbs' only friend) is persistent with his opinion, but that irritation is countered when Abbs hugs Gibbs for the first time in almost two months, and refuses to stop doing it at every opportunity.

Tony and Gibbs are up at the leader's house working overtime more often than not, which means that Tony occasionally ends up sleeping on the man's couch. Ziva joins their case-littered table almost every time, playing mediator often enough.

She hasn't moved out yet, and their colleagues don't wonder why she hasn't, all of them know that Gibbs and Tony are taking turns sabotaging potential apartments. She still doesn't like to be alone, and while Ziva sighs and snaps at them for it when she catches them red-handed, she is content to let them be.

* * *

In this story, the linchpin is not a thing or a person. It is the bond between the two agents that keeps them all together, strong and standing where other teams eventually crumble. When that bond fails, so does everyone that depends on it.

For months, they're okay. Sure, they fight, but they solve their cases and easily pretend that there are no secrets between the two of them. Because of that, McGee schedules his return to the team for a month later, seeing as Vance is reluctant to let him go earlier.

It is then, that Tony and Gibbs find a Navy Captain in his car in the middle of nowhere, with signs of a struggle. It seems like their standard murder, but it isn't. The wife calls his cellphone and starts with: "Hey honey, can I talk to Lucy?"

Lucy turns out to be the Captain's daughter, a nine-year-old that should've been in the back seat. Their case is immediately called a kidnapping, and they head back to Headquarters together.

It is four hours later when they are out of leads and Gibbs calls everybody in to work the case. Ziva and McGee are both available, and they work for hours to find the murderer and the girl. After fourteen hours have passed, Gibbs becomes completely unreasonable, even worse than he was when Ari had walked out of the building unidentified and unscathed.

When he goes too far, Tony calls him on it. He has no time to talk to an unreasonable Gibbs, and neither does the girl. The senior field agent pushes his boss into the elevator, shuts it and forces a picture into the older man's hands.

It is the little girl on a swing, smiling at the camera with long locks resting on her shoulders. "She's not Kelly, Gibbs," he says quietly.

The grumpy Gibbs is nothing compared to the man he turns into at Tony's words. He pins the younger man to the side of the elevator and holds him there. He doesn't speak, but Tony doesn't need him to. He just needs Gibbs to clear his head, and he'd rather the guy punches him than that the girl turns up dead.

The elevator opens at the garage level and Gibbs lets Tony go. He knows better than to stay and exits immediately, deciding to go back to the crime scene and find whatever they missed.

He finds it easily, the tape still encircling the location where they found the body. He flashes his badge at the deputy sheriff and looks around. There is nothing left but the highway and the forest on either side.

He frowns at the trees. Fourteen hours, and no ransom note or call. It makes no sense, this whole case hasn't made sense.

What if?

He shakes his head and clenches his fist. He waves to the sheriff, who comes over and runs into the woods with the man on his tail. He runs as quickly as he can, feels his lungs burning. He stops dead, out of air, and feels the sheriff collide with his back. They end up on the ground, and Tony takes the time to catch his breath. He coughs to get the pressure from his chest and looks at the sky.

It's nearing dark, and if the girl is here somewhere, she could very well die, if she isn't dead already. The sheriff has managed to get himself to his feet and helps Tony up. It's half-way to his feet that Tony notices a red cross on the bark near his hip. He points it out to the other man and they look around for another.

They follow the trail of colors like a treasure hunt, and find a dead end. "Lucy!" Tony yells loudly, hoping for a reply. "Lucy! We're federal agents! Yell if you can hear me!"

There is silence for a second, and that's when they hear a soft reply. "Hello?"

Both men breathe a sigh of relieve, and follow the sound. They find her in a sewer pipe, and Tony thank god that it didn't rain last night. There is a small layer of water on the bottom, but they should be able to get her out.

Gibbs gets called at headquarters by a distressed sheriff and deputy. They had lowered Tony down, but the line snapped and Tony is unconscious on the bottom of the pipe with a crying girl with a hurt leg.

Eight minutes later, Gibbs, Ziva and McGee arrive at the crime scene and rush to Tony. He is awake already, but he sounds disoriented and can't stop coughing. He insists he is fine, makes sure the girl gets hoisted up first, and Ziva has to go down for him as well since he is to weak to climb up.

They have to force Tony into the ambulance, and Gibbs sends Ziva to ride with him while he takes McGee to his car. It takes two seconds for the sheriff to confirm that he will get the girl home, after which Gibbs races to the hospital. They mysteriously arrive before the ambulance does, and wait.

After an examination, the doctor lists Tony's injuries. He has a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. The scariest part is that he has swallowed the contaminated water, and his lungs are doing badly.

He is forced to stay the night, and is caught by Gibbs when he tries to sign out AMA. He grins with some kind of apology, like he is saying: 'What did you expect?'

When the morning arrives, Gibbs kidnaps Tony and with Ziva's help gets him into the bed in Gibbs' bedroom. They take care of him. Gibbs makes sure he takes his meds, Abby comes over with soups and stews, McGee gets Tony a movie-filled laptop, and Jimmy brings Kate over, while Ducky comes in every day for medical check-ups.

During the day, Ziva keeps him company, and he helps her study for her citizenship exam in return. That means that they end up on the couch with movies all day, until Gibbs comes home from work.

McGee and Tony return to team Gibbs at the same time, and the leader couldn't be more grateful, because he has been working with probies for the past four weeks, and has reached the limit of his patience.

Tony and Ziva still live with Gibbs, which may be weird to outsiders, but feels completely normal to them. Kate, Tony's fish, has her own spot in the house, and Tony's movie collection is neatly stacked by the flatscreen he brought over from his place. He shares the closet in the guest bedroom with Ziva, and the left-overs from Abby and Tim when they crash there.

Ziva gets her citizenship, but doesn't rejoin the team. She is done with the danger, recalls her dreams from the days she was figuring out how to run from Mossad, and goes looking for another job.

While they're not exactly glad with her decision, they find that as long as she stays in their lives, it doesn't really matter all that much. Which she does. Ziva finds a job as a hand-to-hand combat trainer on the Navy Yard, and drives with Tony and Gibbs to work whenever they aren't called away to a crime scene.

When Tony and Ziva finally start the relationship that has been a long time coming, there are no rules to stop them, and in their own crazy way, they actually work out.

After almost two years, they move out of Gibbs' place, and move their stuff into the house next door. It isn't perfect, but it is very close.

Tony jokes around all day, Abby bounces up and down to her loud music and hugs every man and woman that enters her lab. Things are better than they have been in years, and while some things still go wrong, there are no secrets left to uncover and destroy what they have.

* * *

Tony proudly throws a party at their house when he has been working together with Gibbs for fifteen years. Everyone brings silly gifts and it is nearing four when only Gibbs and Tony are still up. Gibbs didn't bring a present (Tony didn't expect him to), but when he tells his Senior field agent that it is at his house, Tony bounces the thirty feet between their homes to look for it.

"The boat?" he asks incredulously, when Gibbs gestures at it.

"You get to name it," Gibbs smiles, which he does a lot more these days, but not enough to actually set of any alarm bells. He is still a grumpy bastard after all.

They both know that her name will end up to be Kate. The proof of how much the bond between them has regrown and strengthened is when they set sail one weekend after Gibbs shows him how to get her out of the basement.


End file.
